


Icarus

by Marine_is_Hope



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Bombing, F/M, I Am Going to Die by the End of This, Italian Resistance, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multi, You think I'm Joking, planes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marine_is_Hope/pseuds/Marine_is_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason Grace came to them like a falling star: all alone and encased in fire and metal. No one knew what to make of him; not Hazel, not Nico, not Jason Grace himself. All that the American soldier knew was that once again, he had failed to touch the sky. In a time where home and conscience were thrown away as afterthoughts, all that anyone could hope for was that he would help them obtain freedom. None of them knew what they were getting into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Icarus Is Falling

Hey Piper,

Listen, I know that it has been a while since I wrote you. I am really sorry about that. It’s just that with all of the missions and all, I’ve barely had time to sleep, much less pick up a pen. I know that you won’t think that’s a good enough reason, but humor me until I come home. When I do that, you can complain to me all that you want, okay?

Anyway, how is it in the good old US of A? Has your dad been in any more movies? Where you able to get that old flapper dress that you wanted (Yes, I know that you wanted it. No matter how many times you say that you don’t like dresses, you can’t fool me.)? How is New York? It’s freezing here right now. It’s freezing and it’s gray. So gray. That’s the problem with Europe in general. It’s driving Leo insane. Mind you, he’s from Texas where it never gets below 60 and it’s always sunny, so it was sort of a given that was going to happen. 

How’s Thalia? Is she still thinking of joining WASP? Tell her to sign up and pack her bags, please: I can’t handle Octavian single-handedly anymore. He busies himself by being an arrogant wise-guy and getting into fights with Percy. The only time that he is semi-manageable is when he’s reading those books of his. He still won’t let any of us read them, and trust me, Leo’s been trying (someone might have dropped him a not-so-true hint that they are filled with pictures of pin-up girls). There have been many days when I have prayed to the heavens to just shoot us down to make him stop his racket. Thankfully, nothing of the sort has happened yet, to any of us.

Percy also says to tell you hi. He’s been stuck on a dame for about three months. She’s a female pilot from London, where her father works as a professor. She’s right smart: she was a decoder before she got her wings. Her name’s Annabeth. She and Thalia would get along real well.

Anyway, looks like I got to head out. Our first missions in a tonight, so the bass is running the plans by us every chance they can get. Don’t think on it too much though; it’ll be a quick trip. It’s a routine bombing over Milan. It’ll be at night, so there’s less worry about a counter-attack. I’ll write you when I get back! 

Talk to you soon,

Jason G.

 

Jason smiled as he put the v-mail sheet into an envelope. He ignored Percy’s wiggling eyebrow and Leo’s smirk. “Shut up, you two.” He grumbled. It wasn’t even like he had Piper were dating anymore. They had broken it off right before he left (bit of a downer, but it was understandable).

Leo sighed and fell back onto his mattress with a huff, “Must be nice having a girl to write to.” He mused, “It’d be even better if we could all pull a Jackson and just find a sheba here.” Percy smirked at him, holding his hand out to Jason. The blonde man sighed and handed the New Yorker back his favorite fountain pen. Apparently, Percy had been given it by his fifth grade teacher, and had used it ever since. Mind you, he didn’t write all that much due to his problems with getting the letters backward and mixed up.

“Piper told both of us to write her. You could spare some of your time to send her a letter or two.” Jason said, nudging his friend. Leo laughed.

“No! I can’t waste my valuable writing skills on my best friend! I need to keep them secret until a blonde-haired beauty comes along, wanting me to sweep her off her feet! Then I can stun her with my beautiful prose and… what’s the other one?”

“Sonnets?”

“Yeah! That one!”

Grover, who had just come into the room, raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure that you aren’t just lazy?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his goatee. Percy laughed again.

At that, Octavian, who had been reading in his bed, snarled, shutting his book. “Can you hooligans be quiet for just a couple minutes?!” He snapped, swinging himself into an upright position and stuffing his feet into his shoes. “Some of us are trying to actually get some work done!”

“Jesus,” Leo breathed, watching as Octavian strutted out of the room. “One of these days, I’m going to leave a cig on one of his books and laugh when it starts to burn. I’d like to see his face.”

“He’d bump you off faster than you could blink.” Frank said, finally looking up from his drawing. Jason smiled at him. The military had been good for Frank: out of all of them, he had been the one to change the most. He had buffed up to nearly the size of a tank and was a whole lot sharper than he had been. Percy now knew better than to make any more of his Canadian jokes around the other teen.

“Not if I got to my plane first! Festus would send a hundred bullets hailing at him and he would be an idiot to even think of coming near me again!” Leo boasted. Frank rolled his eyes at his co-pilot.

“It’s that attitude of yours that’s going to get us both killed.”

“You love me.” The Latino said in a sing-song voice.

“I’m still not taking any chances. You are going to be the gunman and I’ll be the pilot.”

“In your dreams!” Leo grumbled, pelting his friend with peanuts.

“You could always just set his bear on fire.” Percy mused.

Jason shook his head at that, “No you won’t. That’s Julia’s, err, a little girl who lived in our hometown. She was the only one of us who could stand Octavian for more than six minutes. Don’t ruin her things just because Octavian’s uptight.” The rest of the 500th squadron looked at him with confusion in their eyes.

“Why does he have it, then?”

“She gave it to him as a present before he left.” Jason said, “Anyone else have any letters they want me to drop off?” 

“No, sir!” Leo said, mocking a salute with the wrong hand. Percy smirked and shoved at their friend as Jason chuckled.

There was the clicking of boots and a sharp clearing of a throat. All the boys looked up to see Clarisse la Rue staring down at them with hard eyes. They all jumped to attention (It was common knowledge that the main reason that anyone listened to Staff Sargent Chiron was because his secretary was absolutely terrifying). “You lot are leaving in three hours, get out there and prepare your bloody planes!” The woman all-but roared.

“Yes, Sir!” All of the men responded before darting out of the room. Clarisse grabbed Percy by the collar and stared him down. Jason was glad that he wasn’t the closest Senior Airman to her, otherwise he would have been the one trapped.

“Where are the Stolls, Airman?”

“I’m supposed to follow their every move?!” Percy moaned.

“You and Grace are Senior Airmen! You the baby-sitters to this rag tag bunch of pansies! Yes, you are supposed to know everything!”

“Chasing after Airman Gardner.” Percy replied. Clarisse scowled but let him go.

“Find them.” She growled, “And Grace,” Jason turned to her, “where is your partner!”

“I’m here, Sir.” Octavian muttered, appearing seemingly out of thin air. He rushed into the room to put down his books and righted the teddy-bear that had fallen over in the scuffle. For just a minute, he stopped short, his eyes softening as he looked down at the toy. Then he shook his head and stood up straight. He then made his way to where Jason stood at attention.

“Get going!” Clarisse barked.

Now, Jason wasn’t normally one to brag (yes, he was), but he could wax poetic about Jupiter’s Prophesy. It was an A-20 Havoc. He had painted its nose when no one was looking, so that there a wreath of laurels circled the tip. When Octavian had seen it, he had surprisingly not said a word. The next day, there was a painting of a lyre and sun on the tail and the name written along the side in gold. They had gotten some dirty looks from the higher-ups, but that was nothing compared to the time that Leo had been caught brushing on flames to Festus’s rear. He had been forced to run ten miles more in training and was told to cover up his work. He didn’t and no one said anything else on the matter.

Jason looked over at all of the other planes, trying to quell the nervousness in his stomach. He watched as Percy and Grover looked over Nature’s Wave (a bright blue monstrosity that no one knew what to think about because god-damn it Percy, that thing’s just asking to be shot down). He gazed on as the Stoll brothers came racing up the track as the sun began to set with excited grins on their faces. Octavian scoffed at them, to which Jason rolled his eyes at. “Come on, you have to admit that they are funny.” He said.

“They are hooligans.” Octavian bit out.

“That’s not a disagreement.” Jason said, smirking. Octavian glared at him and zipped up his aviator’s jacket. Jason nodded at him and did the same. He also pulled up his scarf so that it covered his mouth and nose. The other pilots were also preparing. As they did so, Sergeants Chiron and Terminus came into view.

“Listen here, boys!” Chiron called out, leaning heavily on his cane (From what Jason had heard, he had gotten the injury in one of his many training expeditions), “Today’s raid should be simple and clean. You are to bomb the city of Milan in a circling formation. The duration of the bombing should not last more than twenty minutes. You will be escorted by a squadron of Mustangs, just in case. After that, return back to base immediately, do I make myself clear? I don’t want any accidents. I don’t want any injuries!” 

“Yes, Sir!” Came the resounding chorus as the groups settled in their cockpits, pulled on their goggles and readied to take off.

 

When Jason was six he wanted to be a bird. He told his mother this, who understood it to mean that he wanted a bird. She made his nanny take him to a pet store and to buy him a dove. Jason took the gift graciously, if only a little confusedly, and named the bird Angel. The moment he got home from the pet store, he opened his window and let her fly free. For in the six-year-old’s mind, freedom was access to the open skies above.

When he was nine, his nanny took him to a park. She had put on a swing and pushed him into the sky. She taught him how to beat his little legs so that he could keep going higher and higher. He was sure, oh so very sure, that if he just kept trying he would be able to touch the fluffy white clouds. After about an hour of trying, his nanny made him slow down. By then it was too late: Jason Grace was obsessed with flight. He watched the television in awe every time a plane cross the screen. He was convinced he wanted to be a pilot. His star of a mother despaired that her son would join the army and never be able gain his father’s attention. Jason didn’t see the harm in that: he really didn’t want to know the man who never came home. He didn’t want to meet the person who pushed his mother to try and make her children perfect while drinking herself into a stupor. He didn’t want to know the man that Thalia would rant about as she put on her dark make up and silver flapper dresses.

So, when he was seventeen, he joined the war-effort with Octavian, and trained for close to a year. There they had meet Percy and Grover. After they had been on three missions, they had been placed into a group of newcomers to help train them. It was all worth it, Jason decided as he looked down at the earth below him grow smaller and smaller with every second that went by. He could only smile with every bounce of turbulence and hum along with the engines. Meanwhile, Octavian looked at him like he needed to be committed to an insane asylum.

“Can you stop and pay attention, Grace?” The other blonde asked, his fingers twitching against the buckle that would release him from his seat. His eyes kept flicking backward toward the guns. Jason just turned to look at him. “You okay?” He asked.

“I don’t feel well. Something doesn’t seem right.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked, frowning.

“I-I—” For once, Octavian seemed unsure of himself. His blue eyes were clouded and were turning gray. “I don’t know.”

Jason let his lips form a small smile. It was official: even Octavian Augustus got nervous while doing something new. “It’s probably just nerves.” He said. Octavian glared at him.

“I don’t get nervous! It’s probably your driving! Next trip, I’m piloting!” He bit out. Their radio crackled, attaching their attention.

“Fine, fine.” Jason said, still secretly pleased and a bit relieved.

“Jupiter’s Prophesy, come in, Jupiter’s Prophesy.” Leo’s voice came out of the speaker.

“This is Jupiter’s Prophesy.” Octavian said, his voice cool. He shifted in his seat so that he was resting close to Jason’s shoulder. “Form the ‘V’ formation. Once we get over France we will head northeast for Milan. ETA is one hour.”

“Roger that.”

Once again, there was silence in the cockpit. Jason looked down at the French country side. Fog blanketed the ground, creating the illusion that there was nothing beneath them except clouds. Jason kept his gaze alternating between the ground and the speedometer. The stars and moon provided the aircrafts with enough cover to carry on without having to turn on the lights. “Does it seem weird to you?” Percy asked over the radio. Jason looked down at the box. “The fog and blackness is giving me a sort of creepy feel. It’s kinda like going into a portal to another world. Like there isn’t any bottom or top to the darkness, you’re just sort of dangling in the middle of a bottomless chasm.”

“Percy, be quiet!” Dakota growled, his voice crackling over his Mustang’s radio, “We don’t need you freaking us out before we’ve even gotten to Italy.” Jason thought that Percy had a point though. It really was quite eerie. Then again, Percy always got a little weird when it came to urban bombings. Ever since he had gone on the Naples mission, he had been edgy around civilian centers. From what Jason had heard, he and his gunman, Luke, accidentally shot at a church when aiming for a political office. A whole list of people had been hurt or killed, but the targeted building had also been destroyed. Jason supposed that it counted as a win.

There was silence for about eight minutes as the planes crossed over the Italian border. They would arrive at their destination in 45 minutes. Five minute in and the tension kept rising. The fog was growing thicker. Clouds started to cover the moon, forcing the airmen to turn on the planes’ lights. Jason had to squint his eyes to see. “We need to get higher. It will give us a better vantage point.” He said. Octavian nodded in agreement.

“We need to pull up above the cloud cover. I can’t see a thing.” Jason said over the intercom. As the planes began to gain altitude, a shot rang out. Jason barely had time to look over at Octavian before more gunshots came barreling toward the group.

The Mustangs that had been surrounding the bombers immediately flew into a defensive two-line position as the bullets rained down from above. Jason could only flinch as he saw dints form on the metal surrounding the cockpit.

“What the hell?!” Leo shouted, “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise-attack mission!” The A-20 Havocs began to join the fray as well, shooting up into the clouds.

“We need to retreat!” Conner said, his voice panicked.

“There’s no time! Jackson, there’s a pair of Focke-Wulf’s on you left at 60 degrees!” Jason shouted.

“I see ‘em!” There was a spray of bullets and one Luftwaffle aircraft went down. There were two explosions to Jason’s left and there was a telling scream that signified that Dakota had been hit. His Mustang went spiraling down to the earth below. It had caught on fire, staining the clouds a reddish orange.

“I told you that I felt something was wrong!” Octavian screamed as he stared out the back window. He had already unclipped his restraints and ran to the back of the cockpit. He was busily releasing line after line of bullets into the night sky. Jason said nothing. He signaled for Octavian to hold on tightly to the seat. At Octavian’s nod, Jason gritted his need and pulled the medium-bomber into a dive. All it took was a slight twist to the left and the Havoc arched into a circle. Octavian shot down two more Focke-Wulfs before Jupiter’s Prophesy got above the cloud line. Jason paid no attention to the enemy aircrafts below him; he took off after the ones above him. Octavian’s eyes were hard as he shot at the engines Jason pointed him toward. By this time, Jason had gotten out the front guns and was also shooting, while dodging the falling debris.

“Can you not just aim the ones below us?! What the hell are you thinking?!” Octavian snarled as they nearly missed a falling wing. Festus breached the cloud line, accompanied by Nature’s Waves. The Stoll’s Daredevil was nowhere to be seen. 

“If I do that, then I am no better than any of them!” Jason growled.

Octavian just gaped at him, “You idiot! This is war! This is no time for honor! This is kill or be killed! The Axis soldiers are nothing more than monsters! Shoot down!” He cursed as one of the planes above them caught fire.

Jason just looked back at the other blond, hard blue eyes meeting hard blue eyes, “I can’t believe that.” He said. Even so, he started to point the bow of the plane upward, so that Octavian could get a clear shot of what was underneath them. There was a crackle over the radio as two more Mustangs went down right by them. They had been flown by Harvey and Will. Jason cursed.

Octavian froze for just a minute, just to watch them go down. There was a fury in his face that Jason had never seen before. He had never seen the skinny boy seem so alive. “I don’t want to die today, Grace. If you get me killed, I will—” There the crash of glass. Shards went flying. Jason immediately threw up his arms to protect his face. The projectiles cut through his jacket and wind whipped around him. Warm liquid splattered against his hands and cheeks. Jason felt heat and saw flames licking at the right side of the console. There was no wing on the right side. The back of the plane had been hit. There was a body sprawled in the back seat, looking over the back of the chair. Octavian’s face was a blank look of terror and anger. He wasn’t moving and his eyes were dull. His hands still gripped at the gun trigger. The airplane began to tilt. Jason clawed at the intercom. He wasn’t sure how he found his voice.

“Mayday! Mayday! Shit! Preparing emergency bail out! We’ve been hit!”

“Jas—” Leo’s voice cut off and then Jupiter’s Prophesy was falling. Jason barely had time to press the ejection button. The next thing that he knew, he was floating down to the earth, the parachute silk blocking his view of the sky. Once again, his wings had been cut, only now he was stranded.

 

The fog had finally cleared and the fighting had stopped. Hazel Levesque felt like dancing. After making sure that her father was asleep, she slipped on her boots and made her way out to the door. The moment that her hand touched the handle, someone cleared their throat. She spun around to see her half-brother. Nico was staring at her with a stern expression. “What are you doing?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest. He was unconsciously imitating one of his father’s favorite ‘I Am Serious and Threatening, So You Should Listen to Me’ stances.

“I am going to go outside to look at the stars and moon and check on the horses. You are welcome to join me if you’d like!”

“Father specifically said that—”

“But the horses, Nico, the gunfire probably terrified them. Remember last time? Arion even managed to break out of his stall. There was so much damage. We’d just calm them down and come right back in!” She could clearly see the internal war that was going on in her brother’s mind. She kind of understood, after all, their father had told them to not leave the house. He had gotten so much stricter and stressed in the past years, though she completely understood why. Even now, a year after Bianca’s death, Nico still got twitchy and panicked every time he heard the whine of the airplane propellers.

Hazel still remembered when she had first meet her half-brother. It had been six months ago, right after her mother had gotten taken away for doing something that the Black Shirts didn’t deem appropriate. Her father, who she hadn’t even known existed, nearly spent all of his money trying to smuggle Hazel out of Florence in the dead of night. She had thought that the scrawny boy, who was too pale, too skinny, and far too detached, was a bit creepy and odd. After two incredibly quiet and awkward months, Hazel finally came to terms with the fact that both her new brother and father were incredibly taciturn by nature with every aspect in life besides the fact that Hades was all but leading the Italian Resistance in the area and Nico was his right-hand man. She also realized that, in their own way, they were incredibly caring people. They just had very distant ways of showing.

“Nico, I’m going!” With a flip of her hair and a wave of her hand, the darker skinned child had taken off into the night.

“Hazel, wait! You can’t go out there! There are soldiers out there!” She heard Nico hiss and he pulled on a coat and stuffed his feet in shoes. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grab the Carcano rifle and sling it over his shoulder as he trudged out of the house and took off after her.

Hazel ran as fast as she could to the stables, if only to enjoy the temporary freedom. She threw open the double doors and began checking over each of the equines; she called them each by name and calmed them down with soft words. Nico stood in the doorway, awkwardly. He didn’t like animals, and the feeling was mutual. He was much happier just watching Hazel have fun. A small smile crept its way onto his lips. That was, until he heard a rustling outside the barn, to the left of the water trough, and under the cover of some of the olive trees.

Nico’s grip on the rifle tightened and Hazel stilled. They met each other’s eyes, black fixating upon brown. Hazel picked up a spare brick and Nico checked his pockets for bullets. He nodded at his sister and stepped into the black night.

Hazel had always been fascinated by the way that Nico could seemingly blend into the shadows that surrounded him. IT was as if he was a part of the night. Under the cover of the blackness, his dark hair and clothes were a blessing. He was able to move without creating the least amount of sound. He had sharpened this skill by joining his father in leading the guerrilla raids against the Nazis stationed in the area. He had gotten so good at the leading and slaughtering that the locals had dubbed him the ‘Ghost King’.

Hazel climbed onto one of the stalls and made her way to the rafters. From there, she squeezed herself through one of the windows and heaved herself up onto the roof. All the while, she clutched her brick and readied to throw it at the intruder in a moment’s notice.

Nico crept into the woodened area, deciding against the rifle. Swinging it back over his shoulder, he took out a combat knife. He approached the darkened area. He watched as the moonlight glinted off the knife, sending an arch of light into the inky shade of the woods. There was another rustling sound, making the Italian grip his weapon tighter. It wasn’t a soldier, he reassured himself; Germans never traveled alone. They weren’t that dumb. No one in Europe was that stupid anymore.

He took another step and crouched when he saw the pale hand wrap around from around the nearest tree. A young man, about the same height as Nico’s father came into view. His uniform was torn and was covered in black stains and he was limping. The only parts of him that seemed even remotely alive were his eyes. They were a startling sort of electric blue that reminded Nico of the summer’s sky. Even though they were sharp, they were also haunted. The intruder took one step forward and Nico leapt to attack. Hazel was faster.

At her brother’s reaction, Hazel threw her weapon and it hit its mark dead on. The blond man crumbled to the ground, a bloom of red now forming on the left-side of his forehead. Hazel winced, regretting the blow already. Slowly, she crawled down the roof and landed beside her brother. “Who is he?” She asked. Nico didn’t say anything. He just reached for the man’s dirtied jacket and pulled out a pair of dog-tags. Hazel peered over his shoulder and clapped her hands to her mouth at what she saw. “He’s American?! I knocked out an American?!”

“I think you did more than knock him out.”

“I concussed an American?!” Hazel asked, growing more and more panicked with each word.

“I was thinking that you killed him.” Hazel whimpered at Nico’s harsh word. There was an underlying panic in the older teen’s words as he bent down to check the soldier’s pulse. After a second’s time, his body relaxed and his shoulders slumped.

“He’s alive.”

Hazel breathed out a sigh of relief. Something shined in the background. “Nico,” Her brother looked up, “What’s that?” Nico stood up straight and went to go investigate. He stopped short. “T-That would be a plane.” He breathed. Hazel immediately got up to join him.

It was a, indeed, plane, mind you, a very damaged one surrounded by shattered glass. It was missing its tail and had been severely dinted due to the fall. An abandoned parachute lay on the ground, attached to a chair.

“It looks like he was in the air battle.”

“Are they stupid? They had to know that we were under increased occupation because of the suspicion of supporting the Italian Partisans.”

“I guess not.” Hazel said, scrunching up her nose and looking at the unconscious youth. “Poor thing.” She reached down to inspect the cuts and abrasions on the boy’s arms. He probably was only a year or two older than Nico.

She looked up at her brother, who immediately schooled his expression into a neutral mask. But it had been too late. She had seen the shade of weakness as it had crossed his face. She looked pleadingly up at him. Nico glowered at her, “Don’t you dare.”

“But Nico, he’s hurt and he’s American!”

“And he’s probably going to die anyway; we aren’t a hospital: we don’t have the proper treatments for him!”

“Nico…” Hazel said, her eyes flashing dangerously for a minute, “Either you go get Father and tell him to help us carry him in or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I’ll stay right here, right beside a wounded American soldier and his wreckage of a plane all night until lunchtime. We both know that the Germans only start really patrolling at sunrise.”

Nico glared down at her, but he was only able to hold her gaze for a few seconds before turning back to the house. “Don’t attract any attention.” He muttered under his breath to her before he took off running.

Hazel smiled down at the soldier, “Sorry about your head.”


	2. You Won't Remember This

Nico had just taken up his shift on American-Watching Duty, when Jason let out a soft groan. The seventeen year old look up from the marked up maps that were splayed across his lap. He watched as misted blue eyes opened, only to shut close again immediately. He pursed his lips and reached over the soldier to close the blinds. Due to Hazel’s chagrin, the injured blond had been placed on her bed. She had taken Nico’s bed, and Nico had slept on the floor. Because of that, Nico was not particularly peppy at the moment.

Blue eyes tried to open again, obviously able to function better in the dim light. The pilot tilted his head to look at Nico with a curious expression. He said something in English that Nico didn’t understand because, surprise, surprise, Nico knew no English. Of course, the man would wake up right when Nico’s father (The only one in the house who spoke a lick of the language) went to get more men so they could move the plane into the barn.

Jason Grace (at least, that’s what Nico assumed his name was: that had been the name on the dog tag) stared up at him with confused eyes. He tried to get up, which Nico would have none of. He had not torn up the last spare pillowcase just so the teenager could dirty up his bandages. “Stay.” He ordered, pointing down at the bed as he went out to go get Hades.

When he got to the barn, he took note of the twenty plus men that were gathered around his father in a tightly formed circle. Their heads were bowed together like vultures readying to swoop in for the kill. “Father,” He called out, taking care to stand outside the barn door, “The American is awake. He can’t speak any Italian.”

Hades looked up at his son, “Of course he can’t.” The man sighed, as if he was expecting this problem. “Laudable fools, the whole lot of them. It’s a wonder they know how to point the guns that they are shooting.” Hades also hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, though that was more to him fretting. Nico was certain that his father asked him if they had been seen at least six times. Mind you, his paranoia was justified. Nico’s hand reached up to trail his fingers across the ridges of the half sun necklace that hung loosely around his neck. It had been his mother’s. His father had given it to him seven years ago on his tenth birthday. Bianca’s half-moon necklace had found its way onto Hazel’s neck about a month after she arrived. Nico wasn’t even sure if Hades had noticed yet.

After a minute, Hades managed to break away from the men and made his way past Nico. “Come on,” He called over his shoulder. Nico fell into step behind him.

The teen pretended not to hear the disapproving whisper of, “Gypsy’s son.” Hades, however, turned to stare at the men coolly. The air almost seemed to chill around him. All of the men fell quiet and grew paler with every passing second.

“He has killed more Nazis than all of you combined. I wouldn’t go about antagonizing either of us.” Nico couldn’t help the small grin that fought its way onto his lips. Hades nodded, turned back around, and stared down at his son with a distantly apprehensive that could have been called ‘pride’. Then he began walking again. Nico kept his eyes down, away from the road as he heard patrol cars roll along the gravel. He tried to quell the remaining happiness in his stomach.

When they made it back in the house, Hades made his way over to the occupied bed by the window. He frowned at the young man, as if trying to decipher what the Allied forces were planning on doing next just by examining the lone soldier. “Were you the one to wrap his wounds, Nico?”

“Yes,”

“They aren’t poorly done.” Again, Nico had to fight the grin. A couple of months ago, it probably would have been something along the lines of, ‘Bianca could have done it better.’ or ‘I’ve seen wounded soldiers create splints with better skill.’ It wasn’t much, but it at least showed that his father knew that he was trying.

“Thank you.” He said, but Hades had already turned his attention back to the newcomer. They began to quietly converse in English. Nico strained to listen, trying to pick up on the conversation. He had never had much schooling; letters came slow to him, and math was just plan confusing. However, if there was one thing that he could pride himself at, it was discerning people’s emotions without listening to their actual words. He had lost count at how many times he had saved the partisans from being led astray by catching a lie that came from the gritted teeth of a captured Nazi.

He paid close attention, catching on to the confusion, pain, and disbelief that clung to each word that the Airman spoke. He could see the tension increasing steadily in the way that his father set his shoulders and sat up straighter. Jason Grace was frowning, his eyebrows drawing together with every word that Hades spoke. He kept shaking his head repeatedly. Finally, Hades couldn’t deal with it anymore. With a shake of his head, the man rose to his feet and walked into the kitchen, where Nico stood. It was then that Hazel, who had been taking the horses out into the fields so they could fit the remains of the plane in the barn, came in. She took in the tense air and her smile wavered. “What’s the matter?” She asked, coming to rest at Hades’ other side.

“He can’t remember anything about the crash. He must have hit his head on the way down.” Nico raised an eyebrow at Hazel who looked rightly embarrassed.

“Does he know what he came here to do?”

“No. But judging by the nearly 2.000 kilograms of explosives, I’d say that he was going to blow something up.” There was a dark note in Hades’ voice. Both of the siblings knew why.

“Another terrorist bombing.” Nico muttered. Pictures of the charred remains of Naples flashed across his mind’s eye. He remembered watching in helpless terror as the roof of the Basilica di Santa Chiara caved in upon itself. He remembered racing toward the wreckage, not caring about the smoke that flooded into his lungs every time he screamed, not caring about the cuts or threat of future bombs because Bianca had been in there. Bianca had been in there! Nico jumped, shaking his head to clear it of the memories. He took a deep breath to try to quell the momentary panic that ran through his body.

“In Milan?” Hazel asked, her eyes wide and worried.

“Most likely.” Hades muttered, not looking at either of his children. His eyes were hard and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. 

“What are we going to do with him?” Hazel asked.

“What can we do with him?” Nico responded.

“We will keep him here until he is healed, then we will give him the choice of either joining the Resistance or leaving.”

“But Papa, he’ll die!” Hazel said.

Hades just raised an eyebrow at her, “Why should I care if an American dies? If he is not one of my men then I do not care.” Nico said nothing; he just looked over his father’s shoulder at the wounded teen. He wondered just how much of this war he had seen. He wondered just how many men he had killed. How many children’s lives he had cut short with his bullets.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

By nightfall, the house was quiet again. Jason Grace had gone back to sleep. Nico was looking at a map with his father at the kitchen table. Hazel was sitting at one of the seats, stitching. Hades was concentrating, his running his finger over the Apennine Mountains. “The Allies are advancing steadily, but slowly.” He said, “If they keep up the pace, they may be able to make it past the mountains before the next winter. If that happens, we will most likely be able to join them and push the Nazis out before December.”

“But if they don’t—” Nico started, trailing off.

“Then the Germans will set up fortifications in the mountains. It’s the best vantage point.”

“The Nazis might not have enough supplies to last another winter if it’s anything like this one.” Nico said, trying to be hopeful.

“Then they will start stealing more from us. Do not assume that starving soldiers will be anymore honorable than starving dogs.” Hades muttered.

“Okay, so they will set up camp in the mountains, and the Allies will leave us to our own devises until the spring’s thaw.” Nico whispered.

“Maybe not.” Hazel interjected, “You don’t know.”

“Perhaps, but I believe your brother is right. The Allied commanders are more interested in keeping their own troops safe during the winter. So, it will be up to us to defend ourselves.”

“We don’t have that kind of fire-power.” Nico said.

Hades just looked down at his son with bitter eyes, “We don’t need fancy guns and planes to fight, boy.”

“True, but we can’t go at them with decade’s old rifles and pitchforks and expect to win, either. The Russians tried that and failed in World War I. The only reason they weren’t over-taken was their winter. Unfortunately, we don’t have that type of snow and cold.”

“So, what would you suggest?” There was no anger in Hades’ voice; he was asking a genuine question.

Nico licked his lips and shrugged, unaccustomed to being asked for his input. “We continue what we have already started. We keep attacking supply groups. We take their weapons and ammunition and wait until we have gathered enough.”

“How much is enough?”

“One or two for each man and woman in the area.”

“But there aren’t enough people to take on the German forces head on once they set up fort.” Hazel pointed out. Both man and boy gave her a slight glare to which she pointed her needle out to them, “What? You know that it’s true. Papa, you have nearly 1.200 men, women, and children in the surrounding countryside, but the Nazis have nearly three times that, just in the Lombardy area. If we try to take them head on, we won’t win.”

“So… what do we plan to do?”

Hades could only shake his head, “Pray that the Allied forces make it to Cremona before winter. We’ll see if anyone else has any other plans tomorrow at the meeting. If not, we will probably follow Nico’s plan. ”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jason watched the two younger Italians. The sister (at least he assumed she was Hades’ daughter, even with her much darker skin) hadn’t moved all morning. She was busy stitching something on the opposite side of the room. The boy, was reading. They had gotten up at six a.m., just as the sun was rising. They returned an hour later, reeking of horse manure.

The girl had seen him watching and smiled, still slightly shy of him. The boy, on the other hand, only nodded at him with a blank expression before pulling out his textbook. At least, Jason thought that’s what the book was. He hadn’t actually asked. Not that he really could, with the language barrier and all. Still, it struck him as a little odd that a teenager would pay so much attention to only one section of his studies.

“What are you reading?” He asked. The boy jumped and glared at him, as if angry at him for the question. Then, he thought for a moment.

“Book.” He finally said, with a nod. Then he returned to his attention to the pages. Jason just continued to stare at him, until he looked up with an annoyed expression. “¿Cosa vuoi ora?” Jason had no idea what the boy just said. So, hoping to get his point across, he pointed out the window.

If looks could kill, the one the boy gave him would have sent him to heaven and back. In response, Jason gave him his best puppy dog eyes. “Don’t be such a bluenose: if I don’t get out of this bed, I’m going to go nuts!” He whined. The boy just stared at him. The girl, Jason knew her name to be Hazel, seemed to take pity on Jason’s plight. She quickly got to her feet and walked to the lone shelf. Pulling out what looked to be a very old dictionary, she smiled and pointed outside, “Want…” She flipped to another section, “…outside?” Jason nodded, not caring that he was close to begging. Hazel looked over at her brother, who was staring at them with an arched eyebrow. She wiggled her fingers at him and took his coat off the back of his chair.

Leaping out of his reach, she raced over to Jason and put the jacket on his lap. She fluttered around the room, collecting socks, boots, gloves, and scarves before depositing them all by Jason’s feet. “Outside!” She repeated, seemingly happy with the new word. She reached into the closet and pulled out two large baskets. Jason wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do with those, but he wasn’t going to complain if they were his ticket to being mobile. He quickly put on the clothes that she gave him.

He couldn’t help the wince that came across his features as he stood himself up. All that he could do was smile at Hazel when she looked at him worriedly. She returned the smile with a grin and handed him a basket. He took it, gratefully, trying to ignore the fact that he was still limping from a fall that he didn’t even remember. The moment his hand touched the knob of the door, someone cleared their throat. Both he and Hazel turned to look at Nico. The smaller male was holding out two hats. He pointed to Jason’s hair, and then his own, much darker locks. There was a look of worry on his face. Jason took the article of clothing and smiled. “Grazie.” He said as he crammed the hat onto his head.

He and Hazel were already out the door before Nico managed to come up with the word, “Welcome.” The softly spoken response hung in the air before the boy started to clean his work area. He had a plane to take care of, attack strategies would have to wait.

Jason followed Hazel out to the small orchard of lemon and olive trees. There was a thin layer of frost on the ground left over from the last night’s freeze. The grass crunched underneath his boots. There was still fog in the trees. Jason’s breath turned to steam in the air. It was hard to believe that it was nearly March. Hazel pointed to the place the he assumed that they had found him. He forced himself to smile before turning to look at the citrus trees. Surprisingly, even with the cold air, they were still bearing fruit. It only took Hazel ten seconds’ time to climb up into the trees branches. Jason handed her a basket and began to gather the ones that hung lower to the ground. They were quiet for a minute before Hazel began to hum.

The melody itself was nothing too complex, mainly just loops of the same three scales. However, Jason noticed that many of the local people passing by stopped to listen to the song. There were looks of concentration on their faces as they listened to the chords. When they took notice of him, they would quickly start walking away. Hazel looked down at him, smiled, and put her finger to her lip. Over the next hour, nearly thirty people stopped when they passed by. Some would start to whistle the tune when they left.

Finally, Jason grew curious enough to brave asking a question, “What are you doing?” He asked the dark-skinned girl. She jumped at his words and looked at him through the branches. Jason thought that she looked like a woodland sprite.

“I could be asking the same to you.” Jason was lucky that he had thought to put his carrier down on the ground. He spun around to face Mr. Di Angelo, who had one hand on his hip and the other clutching at a rope that was leading a black horse. The man was glaring down at him. “It would be best that you start learning to speak Italian as possible. We are under enough suspicion at it is.” There was no room for argument in his tone.

He tilted his head up toward the road to where a group of Nazi soldiers were ridding by in a patrol car. Jason swallowed and nodded. Hades watched his reaction with interest, “Do they frighten you now that you are not in your plane?” There was a sneering tone in his voice.

“What? No!”

“Really now?”

There was something in his tone that rubbed Jason the wrong way. He opened his mouth to retort, but Hades had already turned away to speak to his daughter. They were speaking far too quickly and quietly for Jason to understand what was being said. Even so, he could tell that there was an underlying tension to the conversation. So, he took his basket and started to head back to the house.

Only, when he passed by the barn, he noticed that the doors were cracked. There was a light on, probably coming from a lone candle. He looked into to see the brother sorting through the wreckage of a plane. His plane. The words Jupiter’s Prophesy were chipped, scratched, and burned from the fall. But they were still there. Jason swallowed and took a deep breath. He put down the fruit that he had collected and slipped through the gap in the doors. The dark-haired male looked up, startled. When he realized who it was, he nodded. He started to move away from the wreckage. Jason just ignored his movements.

The blonde’s feet carried him, even though his brain had not caught up with what he was seeing. The cockpit was in shambles. The tail had been torn off. The right wing was dented beyond repair. The left wasn’t much better. The windshield had been completely shattered. There was a splattering of congealed scarlet across the glass. The minute that Jason noticed the dark color, his heart stopped. He could hear the whirling bullets and Leo’s panicked voice when the Latino had started to call out his name. Octavian’s words rang in his head with somber finality, “I don’t want to die today, Grace!”

“He didn’t want to die…” Jason muttered. “Jesus Christ, he didn’t deserve to die!” The American Airman scrambled onto the left wing and jumped into the cockpit. All that remained of Octavian was a blood-stained back-seat. Jason was having none of that. He all but flew out of the cockpit.

“Where is he?” He nearly shouted, pointing at the place that he had just come from.

The Italian boy let a confused, “Cosa?”

“The other soldier! Where is he?!”

“Keep your voice down.” Hades said, stepping into the barn with his horse. He placed the stallion into the closest stall to the doorway. Only after he was done did he turn back to the frantic American. “We buried him in the woods when he brought in the plane.”

“You—”

“You were unconscious and we had to avoid suspicion; we had to do it immediately.” Hades stopped short for a minute, then he looked pointedly at his son, “Nico, portami il suo ID.”

The noirette stopped sorting the metals and went into a back room. When he came back out, he held out his hand. Dangling from the tips of his fingers, were Octavian’s dog tags. Jason took them, trying to calm himself down. “Thank you.” He growled, running a hand through his short hair.

“You are welcome.” The words were mumbled, quiet and fast. But they were perfectly enunciated, despite the teen’s thick accent. Hades didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, he turned back to the Airman. His voice was hushed.

“I wasn’t going to ask this so soon, but there is going to be a gathering late tonight at a local taverna. Would you like to come?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“We are planning a sort of intervention.”

That manic gleam was back in the older man’s eyes. Jason had seen it before when more seasoned soldiers talked about the battles that they had fought in. He had seen it glisten when they spoke of the men that they had killed. He looked back at his ruined plane. He thought back to Dakota’s scream as he went down. He thought back to Leo and Percy and Frank and all of the others that he wasn’t sure were able to make it out of the firefight alive. He though back to Octavian’s anger when he shouted, “There is no honor in war! The Axis Powers are nothing more than monsters!” He bit his cheek, running his tongue over the barely healed cut on the right side of his upper lip. “Yeah,” He muttered, finally bringing himself to stare directly into Hades’ eyes, “I think I would like to come.”

The bar was crowded with people that Jason desperately hoped weren’t a part of whatever Hades was planning. From drunkards to whores, widows to farmers, every possible person from every walk of life was crowded together, seemingly having a merry time. Jason had to quell his surprise at the fact that Hades let Hazel come to such a place.

He followed the di Angelo’s into a back room. It was smaller and carried a much more solemn air. There was still a mix of people, however. Jason was surprised by just how old and how young some of the them were.

One of the girls, a young woman with long dark hair that had been plaited into a braid walked over to Hades. Her eyes trailed over all of the newcomers. When she looked down at Nico, her lips quirked up ever so slightly, as if she was fighting to keep up a stern mask. Finally, she stopped at him. “Hades?” She asked, as if inquiring what a newcomer was doing at such a place.

“Il Americano.” The man said, as if that explained everything. Apparently, it did. 

The girl nodded and held out her hand, “Reyna. It is always good to get another soldier in the ranks.”

“You have more than me?”

“A few, Lee Fletcher’s one. As is Will Solace. That one over there is Michael Yew.” Reyna whispered. Hades walked calmly into the center of the room and began to speak.

“Ain’t he a piece of work?” Jason glanced over to see one of the boys that Reyna had pointed out. His name was Michael Yew. He had curly hair and a genuine smile. He seemed to be happy, if not a bit tired. “All of the di Angelo’s are, truth be told.”

“I guess.”

The former-soldier rocked onto the balls of his heels. “So, what’s was it like, staying with their lot?”

“Not bad, really quiet though.”

“Really?” Michael’s eyebrows rose until they were hidden in honey colored curls, “They weren’t, err, odd?”

“No… why would they be?”

If anything, the eyebrows only climbed further upward, Yew let out a soft laugh, “Don’t tell me that no one’s told you? Man, oh man, never thought that’d I’d see the day where someone actually thought that the di Angelo’s were normal.” Jason cocked his head to the right in confusion. Lee’s smile dimmed somewhat and his eyes grew serious, “You do know that they are the main leaders of Le Porte della Morte. That’s the main Italian Resistance in these parts.”

“I thought that they might have some part in something.” Jason said, trying to not let his shock at the words show.

Michael nodded, “Apparently, before Mussolini took power, Hades was a big shot in Florence. He had multiple connections with the dons and had a choice bit of calico for a wife. Had everything. But, then the Black Shirts came marching into town and well, you know the rest…”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“Didn’t think it was my place. Besides, neither he nor his son is particularity social.”

Michael Yew laughed again, “Yeah, Nico’s definitely taken after his ol’ da.” Nico. The name rang around in Jason’s head. Jason was so busy thinking that he didn’t notice Yew starting to speak again. “It makes sense, though.”

“Huh?”

“The self-imposed isolation of the family.”

“Why?”

“They’ve already lost too many people who they were close to. I think Hades has gone through two wives and one mistress, and lost all three to either disease or Black Shirts. Nico, on the other hand’s lost both his mum and his sister, so…”

“Sister?”

“Yeah, Bianca.” Yew smiled softly, as if remembering a fond memory, “Real nice dame, always looked out for her family. She and Nico were right close. One day, ‘bout a year ago, they went to Naples for a day trip. When they came back three days later, it was only the two of them. They were the ones that told us of the Allies’ ‘forced democratization’ policy. You heard of it?”

“Did you say Naples?” Jason asked, his voice sharp. Percy had been a part of the Naples mission.

“Yeah?” Yew said, “You weren’t a part of that mission were you?”

“N-No. Not me.” The tension that had been creeping into Lee’s features relaxed. He sighed.

“That’s good. What squadron were you a part of?”

“The 500th. I was an Airman.”

“Huh, no wonder Hades is on edge around you.”

“Yeah, I guess it makes sense.” Jason’s hands were clinched into first. He rubbed at his left knuckles. They were still cut up badly, even with the redone bandages.

Michael sighed and slapped the other man on the back, “Don’t worry. If Hades didn’t think that you were of decent enough stock, you wouldn’t be here.” Jason nodded and tried to remember that.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

When Hades was done speaking, he made his way back to Jason. A man named Minos stepped up.

“What are you thinking, Jason Grace?”

“I just find it amazing that there are so many different types of people here who are willing to fight for you.”

“They aren’t fighting for me. They are fighting for their freedom.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

Hades stared at the American Airmen with eyes that were as dark as death, “Listen here boy,” He growled, “Your leaders think that our battles are little skirmishes; they assume that they are nothing than mere blips that don’t deserve to be put on the map. They think that we are nothing more than mere pawns that can be used leisurely.” Hades’s eyes were hard and keen. Jason wasn’t sure if he looked like a mad-man or a genius. He only knew that when the man’s eyes rested upon his daughter and son, they softened ever so slightly. Hades took a deep breath and continued, “Let me tell you something: to us, this war is not the chess game your generals seem to think it is. It is not something strategic that can be won with careful planning. To us, it’s an obscure and complex version of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won’t tell you the rules, and who keeps smiling no matter how much you’ve lost. This war isn’t for an ideal. It’s not for democracy anymore. If it was, we would have given up a long time ago. For us, it’s about being able to stop fighting, one day. It’s about being able to do what we want. It’s about being able to go home and hug your children without fearing that one day you will be taken from them, or they from you. It’s about being able to call the place you live your ‘home’.”

“You’re willing to fight for that?”

“What else would we be willing to die for? What else on earth would be worth going up against walls of guns and bullets?” Hades sighed and Jason wondered for the first time just how old the man really was. He seemed so much older than a middle aged man. “There was a reason why I called you out on your lie, earlier. I’ve fought in three different wars and in every single one of them, I am afraid of my opponent. The key to winning is not to be fearless; it’s to be able to keep going even when you are scared. So, I’ll waste my breath one more time in asking you this. Are you scared of the Axis Powers now that you are on the same level as them?”

This time, Jason actually took the time to think about it, “I was always scared of them, sir. After everything I’ve heard, it’d be hard not to be.”

Hades chuckled, “Then you are going to be terrified of them by the time that you get out of here.” There was a resigned air about him.

“How can I help you kick them out?”

For the first time since Jason Grace woke up in the mountains of Italy, fifty-tree miles away from Milan, Hades smiled at him. It was a broken thing that was more of a grimace than a grin, but Jason knew that he was trying. What he didn’t know that it would also be the last time he saw Hades smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my friends who was reading this got confused when I mentioned the 'terrorist bombings'. I suppose a better words for the Allied Bombings of Northern Italy would be 'Forced Democratization'. It was pretty much where the Allies would send out bomber planes to Italian Cities that were rumored to house Nazi Officials, and blow the buildings to the ground. It caused thousands of deaths and left more than a million people without homes. 
> 
> Now, one could say that these attacks were justified, as they were targeting the Nazi officials. While I am sure that quite a few leaders were killed, their death numbers paled in comparison to the civilian casualties. Many Resistance members became quite bitter about these attacks, as seen with Hades' reaction. 
> 
> As always, if anything confuses you, or you just want to talk to me about history, do not hesitate to message me! 
> 
> Marine :)


	3. Look Who's Digging Their Own Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section is a bit more violent than the last one because, hey, guerrilla warfare isn’t pretty. If you are sensitive to violence and minor mentions of blood, please do not read this.

Jason decided that he loved Italy in the spring. From the green leaves of the forest, to the smell of the newly budding flowers, the earth was finally alive again. He shouldered his gun and stopped to take a whiff of the air. It still smelled like damp soil, mirroring the smell of the di Angelo’s home.

He was startled out of his marveling by Lee throwing a small rock at him. He ignored both Reyna and Nico’s glares, which were all but screaming, ‘Grace, I swear upon my ancestors’ graves, if you don’t get your ass up here so help me, I’ll—’. Hazel appeared on his right, a small smile on her lips. She nudged him forward. He sped up to fall into step beside Reyna. Nico slowed to walk beside Hazel. The company kept their steps light and quiet. They stayed in the thickest parts of the woods, hidden away from the sight of the road.

“When will they be coming?” Jason asked Reyna in slightly slowed Italian, who rolled her eyes.

“Were you even paying attention when I was briefing us?” She responded in in the same language.

“Yes, but you were talking too quickly. Please remember, I’ve only been here for three months.”

“During which you have been living with the di Angelo’s, speaking only Italian.”

“There isn’t much talking going on.” Another pebble was thrown at his head. This time, the telling smirk was on Hazel’s lips. But it wasn’t her hands that were covered in dust. Nico blatantly wiped his hands on his jacket, staring Jason straight in the eye.

“Sarcastic little ass.” Reyna muttered approvingly, as Jason rubbed at the spot on his head.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“This is the spot.” Nico said, shifting his shoulder so that the Variara submachine gun was resting in the middle of his back. He crouched down to the ground and pulled out a map. “The bend in the road should make up all but invisible to oncoming traffic. If Hazel can get into the trees to throw down a smoke bomb, we shouldn’t have any sort of a problem.”

Jason leaned down to peer over the map. He rested a hand on Nico’s arm, only to feel the boy flinch away with a growl. The blond raised his hands in surrender and motioned for Reyna to join them. It was common knowledge that Nico didn’t like to be touched, though Jason wasn’t exactly sure as to why. One of these days, he would ask Reyna or Hazel about it. “There are three trucks?”

“One supply and two patrol, yes.”

“That’ll be, what, fifteen soldiers?”

Nico sniffed, “Maybe. It’ll probably be closer to twenty. They are trying to be more careful.”

“So that will be about three for each of us. Everyone think they can handle that?” Will Solace and Lee Fletcher both cracked smiles at the joke.

Reyna just rolled her eyes, “Get into your places everyone! They should be coming any minute.” At her order, both Lee and Hazel took to the trees. Nico crouched down to the ground. His hand was resting against the ground and his eyes were closed. The group fell quiet. Jason readied the Carcano rifle that Hades had given him to use. He like it better than the machine-gun. It gave you less of an excuse to waste bullets.

Nico immediately jerked to attention and nodded to Reyna. He rose to his feet and readied his gun. He met Jason’s eyes so that blue irises focused in on black. “Ready, Golden-boy?”

“As I’ll ever be.” There was the squealing of wheels in the distance. Jason shifted onto the balls of his feet. Nico copied his movements. Nico was the one who let out a shrill whistle. Reyna was the first one to charge forward as Hazel threw the smoke grenade. Jason was the first one to take a shot at one of the soldiers on the patrol cars. Then the whole scene degraded into chaos. Lee threw his smoke-bomb, filling the area with sulfurous fumes. There was screaming and orders and Jason was paying attention to none of them, as they were all in German. He threw his gun back around his shoulder and got out a combat knife. He jumped onto one of the stopped cars. He grabbed one of the soldiers by the collar and just for a minute, blue eyes met blue. Jason didn’t stop. He did not feel anything when he took in the other teen’s pleading eyes. He just put the knife to one side of the boy’s neck and jerked it to the other. He didn’t have time to notice the blood rush over his hands, as another soldier had started to reach for him.

This one didn’t even have the time to touch him. When the German crumbled to the bed of the truck, Jason pulled out his gun again. The driver didn’t even have time to look back. When the shot rang out, the man jerked forward and then back. Blood splattered on the windshield. For just one second, Jason remembered the way that Octavian’s head hit the back of the seat when the plane all but exploded. He remembered the look of terror that cross the other American’s face as he drew his last breath. Just for a minute, he stopped short.

In that second of hesitation, a soldier came up behind him, readying to strike. Another gunshot shook the truck. Jason spun around on his heels to look at Nico di Angelo, who was standing to the side with his gun raised. The Ghost King looked on at the scene with coolly observational eyes. He nodded at Jason before taking off again. Jason Grace took a deep breath before jumping down from the truck bed. He tried to ignore his shaking hands and gripped his gun tighter.

Within three minutes, all the soldiers had been taken care of. Jason looked around at the resistance members. Hazel had sticks and leaves in her hair, but she was safe. Nico, on the other hand, was bleeding from three different graze wounds. Jason walked over to him and leaned down to look into his eyes. “You okay?” Nico jerked away, letting out a sharp grown as he did so, but it wasn’t before Jason took in the glazed but sharp eyes that hid underneath the other’s longs bangs. Jason berated himself because he hadn’t noticed the dark circles that surrounded the boy’s eyes, nor the way that he swayed on his feet. “Did you sleep at all last night?” He hissed to the other man, so as to not get the other partisans’ attention.

Nico said nothing, but the silence was enough to tell Jason what he needed to know. The blond shook his head and turned his attention back to Hazel, who was looking at them worriedly. “Is everything okay?” She asked, this time in heavily accented English. It had been one of the agreements that they had reached when Hades let Jason live in their house and forged his identification papers. He had to teach them English, mainly because Hades was too busy to. He also had to help with the horses and farm.

“I’m not sure.” He muttered under his breath to her. She sighed and handed him a water-bottle. Then they began to sort through the soils.

To anyone who asked, he was Hades’ French nephew, whose mother had fallen upon hard times and died, and whose father didn’t even care enough about them to even come to the funeral. He even had the papers to prove it, thanks to Hades’ seemingly bottomless pockets. No one was suspicious yet, which Jason thought was a small miracle. Actually, it was better to say that the German soldiers weren’t concerned about him, so much as they were trying to focus on catching Hades make one wrong move. Jason had lost count at how many times he had come home from the barn to find men in uniform searching the house frantically while Hades and Nico stood in the background, completely poker-faced.

Every time it happened, Jason could tell that they were scared. Jason could see the fear that was threatening to overtake them all. He could see it in the way Hades’ hands clinched on Nico or Hazel’s shoulders. He noticed it in the way that Nico’s eyes flashed like shards of obsidian every time he was asked a question. He could sense it in the way that Hazel would smile at him softly, in an attempt to assuage his own tenseness. It made him wonder just how bad what they were going through was. It made him even more grateful that they had taken the chance when they decided to provide him shelter.

By the time that they were through with the sorting, they had gotten sixteen rifles, a box of grenades (which Jason and Reyna immediately put under Hazel’s supervision, because no way in hell were they going let Lee near those things (the former American gunman was a bit of a pyromaniac, something that he said was hereditary in his family)), three army knives, and a good month’s worth of rations. Will Solace found three different MG 42’s under a cargo tarp.

By the time that they were done, they were all fairly exhausted. “Right,” Reyna sighed, “Let’s get these things into the woods, and then we’ll be done. That was easier said than done, seeing as they first had to get the vehicles into a deeper part of the forest, then they needed to camouflage them, then they needed to cover their tracks. It took all of another two hours, and by then they were all dead on their feet.

“Let’s go home.” Hazel muttered.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

The night air was still brisk on Chris Rodrigues’s skin as he stood outside his superiors’ office, waiting to be called in. Once again he thought back about how should have just stayed in Spain. It was warm back at the beach. He had family there. He didn’t have to kill anyone on a daily basis there, either. He shuttered when the door opened to reveal the dark-haired heads of Otis and Ephialtes appeared. “What do you want boy?” Ephialtes snapped, “We were in the middle of eating.”

“The supplies hasn’t arrived yet, sirs. You told me to tell you if it had been delivered by 20:00.”

“Why isn’t it here?”

“They could have had trouble crossing the mountain, brother.” Otis remarked.

“Oh, shut up!”

“You shut up! You know that I’m right! The command there is as simple as they get! I wouldn’t be surprised if they sat back and watched the patricians take control of the cars!”

“If you two are so certain of that, why don’t I transfer you there?” A deep voice called out from the room. Both men immediately stilled, and looked up. Twin smiles began to form on their faces.

“If we do well, will we get credit?”

“Will we get promotions?”

“Perhaps.” The voice chuckled. Chris tried to get a good look at whoever was speaking, but the lights were off and there was no moonlight. The person was cloaked in darkness and radiated fear. Chris felt a shiver go up his spine as he unconsciously took a step away. The brothers didn’t seem to notice.

“Come brother, we must pack! It is time to become famous!” Ephialtes shouted to his sibling. Chris backed up, and quickly walked out of the area. There was a panic in the back of his mind, now, that was growing with every step that he took. Slowly and surely, so as to not arise suspicion, he made his way to the back of the encampment. It was only when he got to the pigeon’s roost did he let himself relax ever so slightly.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

The house was dark when the teens returned from there trip. When they opened the door, no one was waiting for them. Jason felt Hazel grip his arm tightly. He gripped the back of Nico’s coat. For once the boy didn’t shake him off. He just stared at the spot where his father should have been sitting.

“If they had taken him away, he would have put up a struggle. Right?” Hazel asked, her brown eyes circling them room with ever increasing panic.

“He probably went to the store to get something.” Jason replied.

“It’s closed.” Nico muttered, and Jason repressed the urge to hit him. Now was not the time to be a Debbie-downer.

“Right so—” There was the sound of boots on gravel outside, making both of the boys and girl raise their firearms. Suddenly, there in the doorway stood a very tired, very stern looking Hades di Angelo. Hazel immediately rushed up to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. Nico only just managed to stop himself from doing the same, though it was clear to Jason that he wanted to. Hades gently pushed the girl away to look at the other two. His face was drawn tight. That immediately made the relief that had been warming Jason’s blood chill back into fear.

“What is it?” Nico asked, reached out to tug on his father’s sleeve as if he was five.

“That was a carrier pigeon from an informant. The Nazis are sending two brothers to reevaluate the supervision of the area.”

“And?” That would not have put Hades on edge like this. Jason had seen the man take metaphorical blow after blow without even batting an eye. There was something else bothering him.

“They were the ones in charge of putting the Glurns policy in place.” At Hades’ words, Jason bit his lip. The Glurns policy had been adopted by the Nazis in an attempt to sever the ties between the Italian civilians and the resistance movement. It stated that for every Nazi soldier killed by the partisans, ten Italian civilians would be killed in the nearest town center in retribution.

“What can we do?”

“We will discuss it at the upcoming meeting. As for right now, we keep our heads down and not attract attention to ourselves.” Hades muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

“Of course,” Jason said. “would you like for me to bring the horses in?” He knew when to give the family space. Hades studied the American from between his fingers. Slowly, his eyes closed, and he breathed out a resigned sigh.

“That would be most appreciated. Thank you.” Jason nodded at Hades’ words and threw his jacket back on. Reyna was sitting on the fence that created the barrier between the two houses. She startled when she saw him and jumped off the wooden post to begin to walk beside him.

“What is with that face?”

“The town’s going to be put under the supervision of the brothers that set up the Glurns policy.” Even stony-faced and stiffed-lipped Reyna had to flinch at those words.

“Are you sure.”

“Hades got a letter from an informant.”

“One in the mountains?”

“Yeah.”

Reyna sighed and bit at her lip. Her eyes, however, were still hard as stone. “We’ll figure something out.” She said resolutely. Jason almost cracked a smile due to her assurance.

“I’m not worried that people will start to give up. I’m worried that they won’t. Some of our members are incredibly impulsive and I don’t want any of the townspeople who are innocent hurt.”

“You’re going to have a hard time finding anyone who is innocent in this town.” Reyna muttered, looking over her shoulder at the road. “Even if they aren’t fighters, they send messages for us or provide us with food. There isn’t anyone I don’t know who doesn’t try their best to help us.” Jason sighed as he tied the lead to Arion’s bridle. Reyna grabbed another strand of rope from around the blonde’s shoulder and tied it to Tempest’s.

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?”

“No, but it should tell you something.”

“What?”

“We all know what we are getting into. We are willing to face the consequences.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I know that I am.”

“You are much stronger than most people. Me included.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, Golden-boy.”

“I’m not.” Jason responded as they made their way into the barn. He quickly put Arion into his stable but as he turned back to face the door, his gaze was caught on his plane. He locked the stable door, ignoring the fact that Arion was now repetitively kicking the wall of his stall. Reyna came up to his side.

“Do you miss it?” She asked, her voice much softer than normal.

“I miss being able to look down at the ground and see the passing countryside and clouds. I miss feeling the cold wind. I miss my troop. But if you are asking me if I miss that way of fighting… no. I don’t. At least nowadays I can actually direct my attack to people who I know deserve it.”

“Would you go back?”

“I don’t know.” Jason breathed as he brought his hands to his mouth to warm them.

………………………………………………………………………………………

By the time that Jason got the second to last horse into their stall and Reyna decided that it was time to get back home before her sister started to worry, the sky was pitch black and littered with shimmering stars. When he finally managed to get the last stallion into the barn, he was shivering due to the wet cold.

He ran the heel of his hand against his cap and slid down to the cool earth. He rested his head against the pillar and closed his eyes. He listened to the wind outside, carrying the sounds of voices and every-day life, even though it was close to eleven at night. He couldn’t remember how he had managed to stay on his feet all day as a soldier. He could barely make it through the day without a siesta.

“I brought you dinner.” A soft voice spoke up from the shadows of the barn. Jason jumped, only to relax when he took in Nico’s hunched form. A small smile etched itself upon the blonde’s face.

“Did you all already eat?”

“Yes.” Nico said, handing the other man the steaming plate. Jason’s mouth began to water as he looked down at the food. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. “You could have come in.”

“I thought you all needed a bit of family bonding time.” Jason said, twirling the spaghetti onto his fork, before he shoveled it into his mouth.

“You still could have come in.” Jason raised an eyebrow and looked at the smaller male. It wasn’t often that Nico offered considerate words. He was too rough and brittle around his edges. He had been chipped away at and smacked around too much to be kind-hearted. Nico was staring down at his shoes (They were worn and beaten old things: even though Jason was fairly sure that Hades had enough money to buy the city of Florence, the di Angelo’s lived in relative normality. Jason wasn’t exactly sure why, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.). Jason took a minute to look at his sharp features and extremely thin figure.

“Did you eat?” There was a tense pause and once again, Nico didn’t deem that question with an answer. Jason groaned. “Nico, you need to—”

“Don’t tell me what to do. You are not my mother.”

“You can’t lead an army when you are skin and bones!” Jason hissed, trying not to raise his voice. The last thing that they needed was for the soldiers to come and investigate. Again, Nico didn’t say anything else on the matter. He just turned away to look at Tempest. Jason fought the urge to shake the teen (This wasn’t the first time this had happened: it happened every week or so and, by Jove, Jason was getting sick of worrying). So, instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had dealt with being in the same plane as Octavian for three years. He could handle a stubborn teenage boy. “Hazel was worried about you today. She thought that you looked too pale.” Jason hid his smirk as he took in how Nico tensed and glared at him. “Will you at least try to—”

“Has it occurred to you, Grace, that I act the way that I do because I want to?”

“Why would you—”

“Because I need to suffer!” Finally, the calm mask was ripped away from the Italian’s face as he spat out those words like they were poison. They echoed through the rafters. The minute that they were out of his lips, he clamped his mouth shut and covered it with his hands. His eyes were wide. There was a noise on the street, a questioning order. Nico went pale when the voices carried through the small orchard. There was the resounding thud of footsteps.

The Italian rushed forward, as quiet as a mouse. Thankfully, the door was already shut. He quickly locked it and stuffed the key back into his pocket. Jason took a step forward, his eyes shifting from the plane, to the door, then back to Nico as the footsteps grew louder. “What do we do?” He mouthed. Nico hissed at him and pressed a finger to his lips. The Italian’s touch was cool and light. The boy’s eyes were wild. There was a knock at the door, followed by an inquiry in German. Both boys were frozen. Jason could feel his muscles tensing, readying to run. It was as if every breath that he took reverberated through the old building. He stopped breathing. 

Jason could only close his eyes and pray to whatever God would listen. Nico’s hand was gripping at his wrist like a vise. He was muttering syllables to an unknown language under his breath, fast and fevered. His irises were as black as the night and his pupils were dilated. His eyes were fixated on the door. There was another knock, but it was stopped short when a pair of harsh voices called out from back at the road. The soldier responded hesitantly, as if he was scared of reprimand. He spun on his heels and began to walk away, if the sounds on the gravel were anything to go by. After about a minute of standing as still as statues in complete silence, Jason finally started breathing again. Nico looked like his knees were about to buckle from the adrenaline rush. Jason watched as the younger man slid down to sit in the ground. Nico rested his head against his knees and took gulp after gulp of air. His hands gripped at his hair and his fingers raked against his scalp. It looked painful: Jason knew that Nico’s nails were sharp.

Jason bit at his top lip, feeling the jagged beginnings of the scar that was forming on the skin. He knelt down so that he was eye to eye with Nico. Carefully, so as to not scare the other, he reached up to touch the other’s pale wrists. When Nico didn’t flinch away, Jason wrapped his hands around the others and brought them away from his head. Carefully, he lowered them down to the ground. Dark brown eyes glinted like they were the shells of a beetle’s wings. “What language was that, Nico?”

The boy took inhaled shakily, “R-Romani.”

“As in gypsies?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Hold up. What you’re saying is that you are a gypsy? I thought that they were one of the groups that were deported.”

“I-I’m not. My mama wa—”

“Nico? Jason? Are you guys out there?” Hazel called out from the doorway of the house. Nico immediately rose to his feet. It was clear that he was still shaken up. Jason brushed off a few stray pieces of hay from the boy’s jacket. Then he reached down to pick up his forgotten dinner.

The next day was a break from the cold, damp conditions of spring. The sun was out, shining down on the small town. For once, Jason didn’t mind getting up early to start working. In fact, Hades took one look at his more than normally chipper attitude, and sent him to go wake up Nico and Hazel. Hazel wasn’t that hard: she simply startled herself awake before yawning in his face. Nico, on the other hand, was not nearly so kind with his morning time rituals.

A few weeks ago, Jason learned the hard way that the older sibling slept with a knife under his pillow. So, nowadays, when he was the first one up, he would hover outside Nico’s closed door with a pot and pan. He only had to bang them together once in order to hear the responding clamor and distinct ‘thud’ of the kitchen knife being thrown into the grain of the wooden door. This morning was no different. “Time to get up, Nico.”

“Burn in the pits of Hell, Grace!” Nico groaned. After a moment of silence, Jason braved a peep through the crack in the door. Nico had somehow managed to curl himself up into a small ball at the foot of his bed, while remaining covered by the quilt. He was blinking at the blond blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looked adorable.

Jason frowned at that last thought and shook his head, “Up. It’s breakfast time.” Nico continued to glare at him for a minute before slowly extracting himself from his blanket nest. Jason nodded, pleased that had gone so well. He had decided last night that he wouldn’t try to push Nico for anymore answers. He would just let the boy tell him what was going on in his head when he was a ready.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Hades and Hazel were already at the table, eating. Hades graced the former Airman with an arched eyebrow. “Is he getting up?”

“Slowly.” Jason said, lowering himself into the seat nearest to him.

“Hmm, pity. It would have been fun to see just how much your reflexes have sharpened if he attacked you again.” Hades turned the page of his newspaper nonchalantly. It took Jason a good thirty seconds to realize that the man had made a joke.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

The terrain was horrible. The weather on the mountain had gone from pouring down buckets to freezing cold in less in a cyclic motion over the past few days. This made travelling very difficult. It made setting up camp even harder. Ephialtes was growling under his breath at every little thing that went wrong. Otis was just staring out the truck’s window, not wanting to get his feet wet. They watched as their men unloaded their supplies. Box after box of ‘essentials’ was handed down from the bed of the truck. No one had remembered that there had been a box of explosives until long after the new officials had made their way inside their office. After about an hour in silence, all hell erupted. A large inferno swooped around the vehicle, engulfing it in flames. The brother’s sprinted out of their quarters, panicked.

That fear only increased when they took in the damage that had been caused. Three men lie on the ground. One of them was completely silent and still. Otis called for the medics and then looked at his brother with a panicked expression. 

“Brother,” Otis was jerked back to look at Ephialtes’s cold eyes, “If you even think about admitting that this was a mistake of the camp, we might as well kiss all chances of promotion good-bye. No one who makes a mistake on their first day becomes Major General.”

“So what do we do?”

The older twin thought for a minute, then his eyes took on a hardened gleam, “You there!” He pointed to a startled looking young recruit. “The Resistance in this area is strong, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“They use guerrilla warfare tactics? Sometimes with explosives?”

Here the boy looked a little confused, “Not normally, sir.”

Ephialtes rolled his eyes, “Fine then, could the get explosives?”

“I-I’m sure that they could, sir, but it would be very—”

“That solves it, then!” Ephialtes said, clapping his hands together. There was a manic light in his eyes. “The Resistance set up the bomb, in the hopes to dissuade us from taking control of the area. We shall retaliate in kind.” The whole encampment had gone quiet. Some of the men where whispering quietly to one another, looks of worry and agitation on their faces. Some of them were former Italian soldiers, who had remained ‘faithful’ to the cause after Mussolini was forced to step down from his position.

Otis was the one to speak next, “Come this time tomorrow afternoon, we will have the townspeople under our thumbs. I can assure you of that.”

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Jason, Nico, and Hazel had been outside picking the ripening lemons off the tree when they saw the soldier come running up. While he was dressed in civilian clothes, it was clear to them what he was. It was in the fact that his clothes weren’t well worn. It was in the way that he held his shoulders.

He cross the yard, making his way to the door with poorly concealed worry. When he knocked at the door, he hesitated twice. Hades opened the door almost immediately. None of the teens could hear what was being said. They could only watch as Hades’ expression morphed from confusion to shock to anger to bitter desperation. He spoke up, cutting the other man off with a wave of his hand. With a nod, the soldier went running toward Reyna’s house. 

It was only after he did so that Jason let go of both Nico and Hazel. They both took off running toward the house. Jason grabbed the baskets and followed a few feet behind them.

Hades was sitting at the kitchen table, his head resting in his hands. His breathing was soft and labored. His eyes stayed train on one spot, not looking at either of his children. He was biting his lip, much like Hazel did when she was trying to figure out the least peril course of action.

Hazel was the one to break the silence. “Father?” Her voice was timid and more than slightly scared. “What did the soldier want?”

Hades looked at all three of them with his tired eyes. He took in the way that they were already on edge. “Pack your bags. After you have done that, get Arion and Tempest. They are the fastest horses.”

“Why?”

“Ride to Milan. Right now. There will be an inn there, Nature’s Own, run by your grandmother. Tell her that I sent you and she will house you for a week’s time. After that, return with two barrels of wine for Caster’s tavern. He will be in need of them.”

“What?”

“Do as I say. Everything will be fine.” That was a distinct order. Jason raised an eyebrow. Both of the Italian youths did as the older man told them. The minute that they were out of the room, Hades went silent again. His eyes glinted the way Nico’s did when he was terrified.

“What’s going on?”

“There was an explosion in the Nazi camp six kilometers from here. They are blaming it on the resistance.”

Glurns Policy. The words rang in Jason’s mind. “You’re sending them away to keep them safe.” Hades glared at the blonde as if his deduction was unneeded. The American lowered his voice, “Why not tell them?”

“They won’t leave.” Again, Hades said the accusation as if it should have been obvious. In truth, it really was.

“Why not go with us?”

“A family just deciding to up and leave the night before a Nazi raid? Oh yes, that is not suspicious at all. A pure coincidence! Use your head, boy! The last thing that I need for those soldiers to find out is that they have a spy in their midst who has been passing on information to us for the last two years! No. I will stay and you will go. You will protect them with your life, and if not, I will haunt you for the rest of your days.”

“How do you know they will come for you?”

Hades folded his hands into his lap, “I am the undisputed leader in this town.”

“Not everyone here likes you.”

“No, but everyone innately fears me. Is there a better way to show off your power than by taking down the one person who everyone else is terrified of with a simple twitch of your fingers against a plastic trigger?” Jason had no response to that observation. Hades waved him away with a, “Go pack your pack your bags, you upstart brat.”

“What about my plane?”

“I will take care of it.”

“What should tell Nico and Hazel?”

“Something believable.” At Jason’s blank look, Hades groaned.

“Say that there will be a meeting with all of the local resistance leaders when they return and that Caster does not have enough sprites.”

“Nico won’t want to stay the full weeks’ time.”

“Then figure something out. I know that you can be intelligent if you try.” Jason opened his mouth to provide a counter-argument but decided against it when he saw the way that Hades’ fist clinched.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Thirty minutes later, Hades watched from the window as the teens met up with Reyna and fled the town in the dead of night. “And so,” The man sighed to himself, “To fire, my world shall fall.”


	4. Your Hands Protect the Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, sorry about the long wait! In between school, exams, and finally starting Homestuck (curse you Purple), I haven't had much writing time. I'll try to be better about it with the next chapter though, so expect to see it in about two weeks, okay? Thanks for your patience!

The trip to Milan was truly uneventful. The banality of it made Jason feel sick to his stomach. Every few minutes, he would look back in the direction of the town. It was as if he was expecting to see something eventful, even from this far away. It was as if he thought that he could stop what was happening just by willing it not to. 

He was so busy to what was happening behind him, he didn’t notice Reyna’s frown. The girl was watching him with solemn eyes. She knew what he was thinking about. Like the others, her guardian had answered to the door. Her sister had been the one to open the door to the soldier. However, Reyna had also been in the room. She had heard each word that tumbled out of the panicked man’s mouth. She had watched on as Hylla had gotten paler and paler with every single second that ticked away. She looked on on as even her dogs, Aurum and Argentum whined was they sensed her sister’s distress. She had heard every word, yet she still obeyed when her only living relative told her to leave immediately. She obeyed and was regretting it more and more with every turn of Jason’s head. She had to get him to stop.

“You want to know something?” Jason startled to attention at Reyna’s voice. The girl was staring at him with an oddly smugly yet concealed expression. Jason smiled at her and took a drink from his canteen. She flicked her braid over her shoulder and brought Scipio to a trot beside Tempest. “People back in town have a betting pool going as to when you are going to propose to Hazel.” Jason spat out the water, swearing colorfully in English. 

“Err—what—I mean, really—I-I that’s—why—w-what?!” For just a minute, Reyna’s stoic façade crumbled ever so slightly and her lips twitched upward. Both of the di Angelo siblings turned back to look at the other duo. Jason colored slightly, and waved them away. “Why?” He hissed at the woman. 

“Because they think that no one in their right mind would want to stay at Hades’ household unless it had something to do with his daughter. I mean, it is common knowledge that he’s filthy rich, but absolutely terrifying. Because, you are the only man in the world who has managed to gain both Hades’ and Nico’s approval and respect. Maybe it’s because you never showed any interest in the girls who flirted with you at the tavern? I don’t know.” 

“I could have a girlfriend.” Jason muttered. 

Reyna tilted her head, “No, you don’t, at least, not anymore.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“You’re the type of guy who would send your girl letters everyday if you could. Yet from what I’ve heard and seen, you haven’t picked up a pen since you came here.” 

“I’m not perfect, Reyna.” 

“I never said that you were.” The tanned girl said, her eyes crinkling slightly around the edges in her attempt to stop smiling.

“Did you have a girlfriend?” Hazel asked, looking back from Arion. Her face was alight with the delight of freedom and her hair was flowing freely in the wind. Jason wondered if she would stay that way she was after she returned to the village. He hoped so. He was praying that Hades was wrong. 

“No.” 

“You’re lying.” Reyna said, softly. “I know how to tell if a person is lying.” 

“Tell us her name!” Hazel exclaimed, a playful smile dancing across her face. 

Jason sighed, gripping the reins with one hand as he ran a hand through his hair, “Piper. Her name is Piper, but we aren’t together anymore.” 

“Why’s that?” Nico was the one who spoke up. He didn’t look back at the blond, which Jason was grateful for. 

“Reasons. I wanted to help the war effort. She wanted to settle down.” Jason shrugged, swallowing thickly. Those weren’t the only reasons, but what they did not know wouldn’t kill them. Reyna was frowning at him, but she didn’t push him anymore. The group fell back into silence. Jason looked back at the mountains. 

...................................................................  
Milan was beautiful. Its buildings were barely standing and homeless families crowded the streets. Even so, it was eternally magnificent with its plazas and cobblestone streets. The Italians snickered at Jason’s awestruck expression. 

“Never been to a real city, have you?” Nico said as he hopped down from Hazel’s horse. Thankfully, there was a stable by the entrance to the city. Hazel was none too pleased at the fact that she had to leave Arion behind in the hands of people that she didn’t know. Nico managed to convince her to hand over the reins. Arion wasn’t so easily persuaded. By the time that the group had managed to flee the stables, he had attempted to kick both Jason and Nico at least six times each. 

Nature’s Own was a small building, quaint and out of the way. It was a hole in the wall place, with plants blossoming in the flower boxes and spilling over the sides. The trimming around the building was painted with gold and greens, and was made to look like leaves. Nico looked like he had indigestion. Jason scooted toward him slightly. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“I just remembered how much I dislike this woman.” At the crook of Jason’s eyebrow, the boy continued grumpily, “She was my step-mother’s mother. She doesn’t like me for obvious reasons.” 

“I don’t understand.” Nico glared at the blond for that statement. 

“Let’s just say that my father didn’t adhere ‘respectful’ six months’ waiting time before he married my mother after Persephone died. Combine that with the rumor that my mom had been his mistress for two years before Persephone passed away and, well... let’s just say that we don’t try to maintain contact.” 

“Wait, your mom was—”

“Let’s go!” Hazel said, pushing the two boys closer to the door while Reyna tried not to roll her eyes. 

While the exterior of the building was unnoticeable and quiet, the interior was anything but. Ivy crawled up the walls and tropical flowers bloomed at every table. The crowd inside was just as diverse as the flora. A woman with dark hair went from table to table, smiling and chatting with her guests. She was beautiful if not slightly worn from all of the work that she had to do. There was a wilting flower dangling down from behind her ear. 

Jason looked at the group. Nico was hanging back, apprehension clearly written upon his features. Hazel was in front of her brother, though was clearly hesitant to approach a woman that she didn’t know, and who might judge her solely upon who her father was. Reyna met Jason’s eyes and took two steps forward so that she was standing beside him. “What are you going to say to her?” She asked.

“The truth.” 

“If what Nico said was true, she might not take kindly to seeing him or Hazel.” 

“Then that’s—”

There was a loud crash, causing both of the teens to jump, their hands going to the concealed weapons in their pockets. The tray that the woman had been holding had clattered to the floor. Her bright green eye were wide as she took in the newcomers. “Nico?” The boy in questioned tensed, as if he was readying himself to run out the door. Demeter would have none of that. She strode over to him with purpose in her every step and looked him straight in the eye. “Why are you here? What is wrong?” That set off alarm bells in Jason’s head. He took a step toward them. 

“Father sent us here.” Demeter opened and closed her mouth twice, as if she was about to question why. Her eyes were hard and her skin was pale. There was a flash of panic in her eyes before she managed to cover it up with a resigned smile. 

“I see.” There was a moment where she faltered, as if she was collecting herself. “Well then, how about some food? You’re as skinny as a skeleton! I keep telling Hades that he must feed you more! You’re a growing boy: you need your daily grains!” She began to drag Nico over to a table, but he latched onto Hazel’s hand. Demeter turned her eyes to the girl, “Who is this?”

“Hazel, ma’am. My name is Hazel. I’m Nico’s sister.” At those last three words, Demeter’s expression darkened slightly. 

“I see.” She breathed, her mouth slowly morphing into a frown. “How old are you, dear?”

“Fifteen, going on sixteen in two months.” Demeter thought for a minute at those words.

“Fifteen, then… that was before Maria was taken to—” That statement peaked Jason’s interest. Hazel cut off the woman before she finished her sentence. Nico had begun to withdraw into himself. His eyes were sharp and cold. 

“My mother was never one of my father’s wives.” 

Demeter blinked once at the words, and then she let out a sigh, “That man… just as bad the rest of them.” She sighed, gripping her platter tightly. She looked up sharply at Jason and Reyna. “Don’t tell me that you’re—”

Reyna shook her head, “My name is Reyna,” She took another step toward the woman and lowered her voice to a whisper, “One of Hades’ lieutenants.” 

Demeter nodded, her confusion clearing and replacing itself with worry, “You are too young in my opinion. All of you are too young and too skinny. You need more fiber in your diet…” She clucked her tongue, “That Hades. Give him a gun and he’ll pass through any challenge with flying colors. Give him a child on the other hand and—”

“He took care of me.” Jason said. Demeter glanced up at him with a curious tilt to her head. Jason reached out a hand and smiled, “Jason Grace at your service, ma’am. I am a friend of the di Angelo’s.” 

“You’re English.” Demeter whispered. 

Jason smiled, “Close,” He looked around the area. None of the families had even looked up at the scene. He let out a breath of relief. “It’s American.” He continued. 

“An American who’s friends with Hades? Hades saved an American? What is the world coming to?” 

“He crash landed in our backyard.” Hazel muttered, picking at a loose seam on her skirt. 

“Hades made friends with an Allied Airman?” There was a thrill of alarm in Demeter’s voice. “But didn’t Bianca—”

“Enough!” Jason was surprised that such a strong voice could have come out of Nico. The boy’s eyes were gleaming and his muscles were pulled taunt. In that moment he looked just like his father. Jason had never seen someone react so harshly at a name. 

Demeter huffed, clearly accustomed to such outbursts, “No need to shout! Goodness me, it’s like you were raised in a zoo! I thought that the farming would have built up your character at least a little bit. Now I see the problem. If there’s one thing Hades couldn’t teach you it’s manners. Only a mother can do that.” Nico pursed his lips and continued to glare at the woman. She went to go get them something to eat. Jason watched her. The atmosphere of the group had tensed. Hazel was looking down at her folded hands. There was a guilty expression on her face. Jason wouldn’t stand for that. 

“My mom and dad weren’t married either.” He finally managed to say. Hazel looked up at him, her large golden eyes wide. 

“Huh?” 

“My mom was a famous movie star who caught my dad’s eye on a business trip while he was in Hollywood. Then, after a month, he left to go back to New York. Little more than half a year later, my sister Thalia came about. My mom was not happy, as the pregnancy had all but ruined her acting career during those months. So, my dad sent for them and provided them with everything that they could want. He even came to visit at times. That’s where I came from. To this day, I don’t know what the man looks like. It’s not something that you should feel ashamed of. You had no way to control it.” Accept your weaknesses and wear them as your armor so no one can use them against you. That was what Jason’s nana, Lupa, had told him the day before she had been sent away for arguing with his mother about the way that he should be treated. 

“Where’s your sister, still with your mother?” Nico was the one to ask that question. His voice was soft and hesitant; it was as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Jason had to laugh slight at the thought of Thalia still being in the same state as her mother. “Oh no, Thalia ran away when she was twelve. Last time I heard, she was trying to join the WASP, er, that’s a branch of the US air force, non-military, mind you.” 

“Your women are so odd.” Hazel said, smiling dreamily. “You don’t let them wield a gun, but you let them strut around in Channel Flapper dresses and control their men with dark lipped smiles. I want to be a flapper.” Again, she began to pick at her dark gray skirt. Jason decided right then, that if they both survived the war, he would track down the most elegant and sparkly gown he could find and buy it for her, regardless of the cost. He at least owed her that much. It didn’t look like Nico liked his sister’s dream. 

“Flappers went out of style in the 30’s.” He whispered and Jason resisted the urge to glare at him. Demeter decided, then, that it was time to come back with plates of food. Everyone immediately started eating… well, everyone besides Nico. The Italian boy just looked down at the breakfast food as if it was poisoned. Jason looked up. With minimal movement, he reached over to rest a hand on the boy’s arm. Nico jumped, but for the first time, he didn’t pull away. 

“You need to eat.” Jason whispered, trying not to gain the attention of the others. Nico glared at him, but picked up a grape and tossed it onto his mouth. Jason smiled, encouragingly. Reyna watched the two of them with a thoughtful air. 

...................................................................  
After brunch, the group found themselves in a small room with two double beds crammed into it, along with a small dresser and a slightly larger wardrobe. The only part of the room that wasn’t covered by bare feet, knapsacks, or furniture was the window, which was the room’s major source of light. Nico immediately curled up at the base of the bed closest to the door. Jason watched him with a fondness that he really couldn’t place but was inexplicably strong. 

After about fifteen minutes, Reyna decided that the area was too crowded. To remedy this, she grabbed Jason around the collar and dragged him out on an expedition to ‘explore the city’. 

What they actually did was run to a small only slightly damaged café to buy coffee and orange slices. Jason shifted nervously under Reyna’s calculating gaze. “Why did you break up with your girlfriend?” Reyna asked, getting straight to the point. 

“I already told you—”

“You didn’t tell the whole truth. Explain.”

“I don’t see why you are so—” Reyna’s sharp eyes and stony expression told Jason that he wasn’t going to be left alone until he expanded upon his previous statement. He took a sip of his ‘coffee’, (It was so watered down due to rationing that it didn’t even deserve to be called by that name. It was barely brownish in color.) reveling in the way that the scalding liquid burned at his tongue. Sighing, he closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say that I’ve been partial to the works of Oscar Wilde for a while.”   
He watched for any form of recognition in Reyna’s eyes, there was nothing. Finally, after almost a minute of silence, he opened his mouth to clarify, trying to control the blush on his cheeks. The girl just nodded, “I have always enjoyed the poems of Sappho, myself.” Jason startled, and met Reyna’s dark eyes. The female resistance leader smiled, “Oh, come now, don’t immediately assume that you are the only one who likes to see their own gender in uniform. Though, I suppose that your lover didn’t take too kindly to this type information?” 

“A lot of people, Piper included, thought that we were going to be the ‘perfect couple’. That’s what my aunt, the person who set us up, called us. Everyone thought that we would be together forever and would love each other unconditionally. I think that did love Piper in that way, at one time, but it definitely wasn’t enough to last forever.” 

Reyna took a bit on an orange and cocked her head, “Ah, then you are enamored with both sexes. Congratulations, you are a true Roman warrior.” 

“You are taking this quite well.” Jason said, pointing his cup at her. Reyna huffed.

“I am a leader of Le Porte della Morte. What my soldiers do when they are not fighting does not interest me, so long as they protect each other and fight well.” Again, they went quiet. Reyna was the one to break the silence, “How long did Hades tell you to stay?” 

“A week.” 

“That will be difficult. Nico isn’t one for sitting still. He will want to leave the minute that he gets what his father wants. 

“I know.” Jason said, cradling his head in his hands, “I really don’t know what to do about him.” There was exasperation in his tone, but there was also a gentle type of fondness. Reyna’s lips twitched upward at those words. 

“I guess that the townspeople were wrong.” She said, almost teasingly. Jason frowned, confused. “They thought that Hazel was the reason why you stayed. They had the wrong sibling.” Jason did blush slightly at that, feeling his heart-beat pick up just a little. 

“No. That is not the reason. I have not thought about him in that way.” Reyna frowned at him, as if she was trying to decipher his words. She took in the way that his body posture had tensed slightly, and the way that he looked down to the left when he spoke. She debated on telling him about when Nico was younger, when he always had a smile on his face and laughed at nearly everything. She thought about telling him about the handful weeks when Nico followed after that one American boy, with the dark hair and sea-green eyes, who was in Capri visiting his father for the whole summer. That had been long ago, back when Hades lived in Sorrento so that his children could live where they grew up. It had been when Bianca was still alive. She decided to stay silent.

As they were walking back, Jason looked around at the ruins of the buildings around him. He took out the last few orange slices, which he had bundled in his pocket for Hazel, and handed them to a haggard looking mother. The light shined in her eyes as she gave him a thankful smile. Her child, a little girl with thick dark hair and bright eyes came running over as the two soldiers left. Reyna watched her companion with curious eyes. 

“You really are too kind-hearted for this type of war.” She said, digging her hands into her pockets. Jason shrugged. 

“’Guess that I am still a bit new to the whole seeing your opponents die thing. Apparently it closes you off pretty quickly. Don’t worry, I’ll be like you soon enough.” Jason muttered, looking over to where a group of kids were playing in the shadow of a church’s ruins. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s just, odd. Refreshing.” Reyna said, sitting herself down in a bench to look at the gathering group of pidgins that were landing at her feet. Jason walked around the rickety piece of furniture and leaned against the back. 

“What’s on your mind, Reyna?” He asked, his voice soft. “You’ve been off since we came here.” 

The resistance member sighed, “I’m worried about my sister and the village.” She said, her voice flat and betraying no other emotions. 

“Maybe they won’t do anything. Maybe we’ll get back and everything will be just fine.” 

“Perhaps.” The woman said, twirling at her braid. 

“Is there anything that I can do?” There was a hesitance in Jason’s voice that made Reyna look over at him, “To ease your mind, I mean.” 

She thought for a moment. There was nothing that he could to presently, but, perhaps… “There is one thing.” She said, and blue eyes caught her own, “I have known the di Angelos for quite some time and would like to know that they would always be safe. So, if you could, promise me that if something happens to me you will take care of them.” 

“What do you mean, if something happens to you?” Jason’s voice was sharp. 

“You think that this is going to be the last time that one of the Germans die from doing something stupid? Trust me, it won’t be. Even if all of the resistance members north of the mountains put up their guns, they would still find things to kill us for. So, promise me, if only for peace of mind.” 

“I promise.” Jason said, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. 

...................................................................  
By the time that they got back to the inn, the sun was just beginning to set in the sky (they had gotten lost, helped a boy find his dog, and had gotten roped into making makeshift support beams for the city’s arches and architecture. Jason didn’t want to be the one to tell the townspeople that extra wood interspersed with sandbags wouldn’t hold up against the legions of Allied bombers. So, he put himself to work helping them. When Reyna managed to drag him away, it was nearing five o’clock. 

Nature’s Own was a bit more crowded than it had been when they had left, which was saying something because the place had been packed to the seams. There was soft music playing in the background. Hazel bounded over to them when she saw them. She was wearing a barrowed dress and a cream apron. She was carrying a platter of food and was grinning widely. “You’re back!” She said, bouncing on her toes. “Miss Demeter says that we need to pay for our keep, so you two might want to go find her to see what she wants you to do.”

“Where’s Nico?” Jason asked. Hazel let out a soft chuckle and pointed over to the piano. Jason felt his eyebrow’s rise in spite of himself. So that was where the music was coming from. The young Italian teen was scowling down at the keys as he played a jazz number. Jason’s smile only widened as he made his way over to where the other boy was.   
“Didn’t know that you could play.” Jason said, walking around the old grand piano. Brown eyes trailed after him as he made his way around the instrument, running his index finger over the polished grain of the wood. 

“What do you want?” 

“Under the Moon?” 

“What?”

“Runnin’ Wild?” Jason asked, looking over to where Hazel had finished serving and was tapping her foot to the music.

“I’m not a full orchestra and I’ll murder you in your sleep if you think of laying something on my sister.” Nico said, though there was a small smile gracing his lips.   
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You remember the conversation we had coming over here. Broken Hearted?” 

“Fine.” Nico shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the blonde. He took a deep breath before he changed the tune to something far faster paced. Hazel jumped to attention and stared at her brother as Jason made his way over to her to offer her a hand. 

“I think he’s only going to allow me one dance, so we might want to step to it.” That was all that Hazel needed. She handed her platter and apron to a chuckling Reyna and rushed forward. The moment that she grabbed Jason’s hand, he spun her out, trying to remember the steps to the Swing. 

Hazel barely gave him any time to think, so he knew that half of the moves were improvised. But she was laughing and Nico was smiling so nothing else mattered. Jason froze for a minute when he realized what he had just seen when he had rushed by the Italian boy. He managed a glance back, and sure enough, there was a small grin playing at the other boy’s mouth as he concentrated on moving his fingers over the keys correctly. By the crescendo of the song, his shoulders were moving in time with the music. His curls bounced with every slight move of his head. Jason swallowed thickly and forced his attention back to the boy’s sister. Hazel was looking up at him with a thoughtful expression. She gave him a happy smile and by the time that he pulled her back from another twirl, it was as though she didn’t have a care in the world. 

By the end of the song, even Reyna was laughing and Demeter was watching the two dancers with a hand on her hip and a smile on her lips. She was rolling her eyes at them but Jason couldn’t bring himself to care. All that he cared about was the fact that, in that moment, there didn’t seem to be a war going on at all. 

...................................................................  
That thought process, of course, couldn’t last more than a day. It was the middle of the night when Jason felt the floor tremble underneath him. There was a thundering ‘boom’ in the distance, muffled by the miles. The blond sat up in his bed to realize that Nico’s side of the mattress was empty and cold. He looked around the room, trying to look of any hint as to where the smaller teen might be. His eyes finally found Nico huddled in a corner of the windowed area, his fingers clinching at the drapes. His features were bathed in light from outside and a scowl marred his face. Jason immediately got to his feet and made his way over to where the boy sat. 

“Nico?” 

“They are coming.” It didn’t take an a second’s time to figure out who they were. 

“They’ve already bombed this area though.” 

“Apparently not enough.” Nico’s voice was cold and distant. His eyes matched his tone, making Jason wince. The American watched as the Italian’s toes dug into the planks of the floor, light on dark. “We need to head back to the village. Tomorrow.”

“What?” 

“Do you not like that idea, Grace?” 

“Your father said—”

“Damn what my father said!” 

“Keep your voice down: do you want to wake up Hazel? The moment that she hears the explosions, she will want to run to check on the horses.” Almost against his will, Nico shut his mouth. His eyes were burning like embers and Jason knew that he was treading a thin line.

“Your father said to stay a week.” Jason whispered, trying to keep his voice calm and contained.

“My father,” Nico spat, “contrary to his own beliefs, does not always know what the best action to take is. He could—” He cut himself off, his eyes trailing downward as his expression softened. 

Jason felt his irritation melt slightly, “You are worried about him.”

“Of course I am! I have to keep him safe. Bianca asked—” At the mention of his sister’s name, Nico went both quiet and pale. Jason could almost see Nico beating himself up mentally for speaking of her. 

“You must have really loved her.” 

“Of course I did. She was my sister.” 

“Sorry, it’s just that, well, I barely know my sister. We see each other twice a year at most, normally. She’s always busy with her work and I think that my father tries to keep us from meeting each other.” 

“Why?” 

“Probably because Thalia likes to talk bad about him and my father doesn’t want my ‘esteemed view of him’ tarnished.”

“Something tells me that you two don’t get along that well.” 

“Yeah, I guess not. I just don’t have the backbone that Thalia does. I can’t bring myself to stick up for myself. I just do what he tells me to. The only thing that I ever did to defy him was join the air-force.” 

“At least you know that she is alive.” Surprisingly, Nico’s voice was not bitter, it was soft and hesitant. 

“Yeah,” Jason muttered, shivering in the damp coolness of the room. While March was warming than the winter months, it was still frigid during the night. He scooted ever so slightly closer to Nico, in an attempt to ward off the chill. Nico watched him warily, but didn’t move away. In fact, he shuffled a few inches closer so that soon they were back to back, peaking out the window so that they could watch the distant battle that was probably raging toward them. “We should stay for two more days, just so your father won’t start raging when he sees us coming home.” Jason said, knowing that while his argument was weak, it also would have been true. 

Nico watched him with his keen dark eyes. They were slowly glazing over due to tiredness. “One and a half.” He muttered, his head falling back to rest against Jason’s back.   
“We won’t be able to get in. Remember the curfew?” 

"We can leave at nightfall and arrive in the morning.” Nico bickered, unwilling to compromise. 

“That will have to do.” Jason said, trying not to think about the future and what horrors it would bring. He twisted his head around to look at the younger man. Nico’s curly hair had gotten longer in the past few months and his eyelashes tickled at Jason’s cheek. For once, his expression was peaceful. He almost looked innocent. Jason prayed that Hades would still be there when they arrived. He didn’t want for that fading innocence to disappear completely yet. Nico didn’t deserve that.

Jason Grace looked up at the sky and watched the planes burn and fall to the ground in the distance. The sudden flashes of light hurt his eyes, but they were far enough away that they didn’t pose a danger to anyone in the city. He wished that he could just stop time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Hope that you enjoyed it! Sorry that it was a little slow, but it sets up for a lot of future stuff, so it was kind of needed.
> 
> Marine


	5. The Wild Winds Around You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I misjudged just how long this chapter would take me. Too much stuff had to happen and it kept getting longer and longer. Really sorry about that... I'll try to get the next chapter up faster, but I'm not going to make any promises this time. Hope that you enjoy the angst!

The sky was a brilliant and belligerent red that demanded Jason’s attention as he pushed Tempest into a canter so that he and Reyna were side-by-side. He felt his leg brushed against the girl’s and watched as her head turned slightly toward him. He forced a small smile on to her lips, though he knew that she could sense the worry coming off of him, just as he could with her. It will all be okay. He mouthed to her. She sighed and repeated the words back to him. 

They had been riding for close to ten hours straight. It seemed as though even Nico and Hazel knew that something was amiss in their world, even though they couldn’t tell what it was. Jason could tell in the way that Nico hunched his shoulders. He could sense it in the way that Hazel was eerily quiet. 

He readied to clear his throat when he spotted a horse grazing on the road side. Hazel jumped to attention, squeezing her brother’s shoulder. “Nico,” she breathed, “Is that Blackjack?” 

The elder di Angelo sibling studied the horse for barely three seconds before nodding his head in a sharp manner. The air was tense as Hazel leapt down from Arion’s back and made her way over to the dark horse. Blackjack panicked when she approached him too quickly. It was then that she noticed the small wound on his shoulder, complete with scabbing and two day old dried blood. All that it took was a look between the di Angelo siblings before Nico took off down the dirt road at a full-on gallop, his hair wild and windswept and his eyes sparkling like a madman’s. He looked every bit like a ghost in few seconds that Jason saw him before he raced down the hill that led to the village limits. He was transient specter of the night racing away from the sun as dawn brought harsh light to the land. Every mystery would be bared in the world’s view once the sun hung in the sky.

Hazel manages to calm down Blackjack enough to leap onto his back and take off after her brother. Jason readied to push Tempest into a canter when he noticed the look on Reyna’s face. He stopped short. “Reyna,” The lieutenant stared at him with dark eyes. “We’ll be okay. All of us.” 

“You can’t promise that, Jason Grace.” 

“I’ll do my damndest.” 

“Even so, don’t blame yourself when it all goes wrong. Life isn’t far or rewarding, even to those who deserve a happy ending.” With a concluding nod, the young woman took off and Jason followed. His heartbeat increased with every thud of Tempest’s hooves. Every echo of the horseshoes against the ground brought the youth one step closer to the town that he had grown to call ‘home’. 

.........................  
The cottage had been ransacked. The horses were grazing in the orchard, where tree limbs had fallen and littered the ground with browning buds. The flowers leading up the pathway to the front door had been crushed and beaten into the ground. The door had been left open; Jason didn’t know whether one of the di Angelo siblings had forgotten to close it in their desperate inspection of their house, or if the intruders had thrown it off its hinges when they entered. 

The interior of the building was just as ruined as the exterior. The small kitchen table had been flipped and two of the chairs had broken legs. Feathers from ripped pillows littered the floor and glass shards crunched beneath Jason’s feet with every step that he took. Bullets had created holes in the kitchen floorboards. But there was no blood. There was no blood. If anything had happened there, there would be blood… right? 

The only room that had remained at least semi-untouched was, surprisingly, Hades’ room. Jason let out a shaky breath as he surveyed the room. It looked just like it had when they had left: the windows were intact, the bed was made with the corners of the quilt neatly tucked in underneath the pillows. Jason closed his eyes and ran a hand over his eyes. He turned on his heels and walked out of the house. 

It only took a ten minutes to round up the horses and get them back into their designated stalls. Thankfully, Blackjack seemed to have been the only one who had been hurt. The plane was long-gone. Jason just hoped that Hades had managed to get it out in time. The airman looked down the dark hallway of the barn, gazing at where the parts of the Havoc had rested. Now there was only bare space. The boy felt his hands curl into fists and he gritted his teeth. “Don’t blame yourself.” He muttered. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.” He wasn’t talking about himself. He was thinking about dark eyes that were already too haunted for their age. 

At that very moment, Nico di Angelo was kneeling in the village center, one hand clinched to Reyna’s arm while the other was draped around Hazel’s chest as she beat her fists into the ground. 

There had been a reason why Hades had said to wait a week at Milan. It was common practice for the Axis soldiers to leave the bodies of insurgents hanging by their neck for five days to show everyone in the world. On the six, they would take them down to burn them. By the end of the seventh day, it would have been as though nothing had happened. But it was only day three and Hazel was screaming and Reyna was trembling and all that Nico could think was how only one of them had insisted that they stay for the full weeks’ time. 

Hazel was the first one to come walking back into the house. Her eyes were dull and glossed over as she took in the renovations that Jason had started. The blonde was sweeping the dirt and glass in the kitchen. He had already dragged the table, pillows, and broken chairs into the forest, out of sight. The room looked bare and empty. There were still bullet  
holes in the floorboards. “You didn’t have to do this all by yourself.” She whispered.

“Yes I did.” There were unspoken words tacked on to the end of that sentence. Phrases like I did it so you wouldn’t have to and are you alright? flittered through the silent and damp air. They made Hazel’s lips purse together because, no, she wasn’t going to cry. S-She had already cried enough. 

After taking a shaky breath in, the girl shifted on her feet. “Thank you.” She muttered. Nico hadn’t been the only one to notice Jason’s hesitance to return to the village. It wasn’t that hard to put two-and-two together. 

Again, Jason’s sweeps stuttered and the American refused to meet her eyes. “It’s only right,” he whispered, “I live here, too.” His gaze drifted over the room and he bit the inside of his cheek. Hazel pulled the only remaining chair out and collapsed into it. She rested her head on her hands and watched the Airman. 

“I meant for everything. I know why you did it and you need to know that at least one of us is grateful.”

Jason nodded and straightened until he was standing tall. His eyes were both harsh and soft as he made his way over to the girl. She pushed herself away from the table and turned the chair. She was expecting for him to put on a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her with weak words. She wasn’t expecting the sound of his boots squeaking against the floor boards as he knelt down before her. They were eye-level with each other. The only person who had done that to was her father and even then, she had been more hesitant than comforted by the gesture. It wasn’t like that this time. Her eyes quickly filled with tears and she almost instinctually launched herself at the other resistance member.  
Jason’s arms wrapped around her, and though the grip was perhaps a shade too tight but at that minute Hazel didn’t care. She felt him start to shiver and drew back to look at him again. “We’ll be o-okay.” She muttered, brushing a stray bang away from his eyes. 

“We’ll be fine.” He responded, nodding. There was a hesitant twitch of his lip, as if he was trying to smile but couldn’t bring himself to perform such a lie. “Where is Nico?” 

Hazel gripped at the folds of her skirt and stared down at the frayed ends of the fabric. “With Reyna. He wants to see if he can get--”

“I’ll get the shovels ready.” Jason cut her off, his gaze immediately going to the door. “But first...” Hazel got to her feet, understanding what the American wanted to do. He tossed her a screwdriver and pulled the door in to see if it would match up with the frame. It didn’t, but they had been expecting that. All it took was a flicker of Jason’s eyes to the hinges, then Hazel knew what he wanted her to do. They got back to work. 

It was an hour until they finished. By the time that they did, their hands were sore and rubbed raw in places. Hazel collapsed back into the seat and watched Jason mill about the room urgently, as if he needed to do something else. But there was nothing else to do. The room was clean and bare, and it was nothing like it had been. There wasn’t anything that they could do about it. 

Finally, Jason gave up trying to putter around and leaned back against the countertop. They waited. They didn’t have to for very long.

.............................  
The recently reset door flew open and Hazel jumped up in terror. She reached across the table and grabbed Jason’s gun. Within a second’s time, it was pointed at the entryway where Nico stood, breathing heavily with an expression that was as cold as death itself. “You,” His voice was a growl, growing louder with every letter that forced itself from his lips, “You knew about this! You knew that this was going to happen and not once did you think to tell me?!” He shouted at Jason, with his hands clinched into fists. The American stood still and unthreatening. It was as if the words that the Italian resistance member spat out had no effect on him. Hazel actually thought that they didn’t until she looked into Jason’s eyes. They were stormy and grey and gleamed with what could have very easily been tears. 

The ground almost seemed to shake with every step that Nico took toward the waiting blond. Hazel had seen fury in her father’s eyes enough time to know that she had to step in. “Nico,” She said, moving to stop her brother. It was Jason who motioned for her to stay where she was. 

“Tell me what I was supposed to do.” The blond muttered, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “Tell me that there would have been a better result if I had told you. Either of you.” 

Nico opened and closed his mouth a good ten times, the rage dwindling from his features. His jerky attempts to convey the emotions that were toiling behind his lips halted. The fire in his eyes slowly suffocated itself and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but it seemed to Hazel that he leaned ever so minutely toward Jason. Even if he didn’t, there was no way to dispute the fact that he interlocked his hands, as if trying to keep the last shards of his angered façade together by digging his nails into his knuckles. “My father is dead.” 

“And could we have done anything about it? You would have attacked any man who tried to put a hand on him or Hazel. He was protecting you.” 

“Nine others are gone.”

“That’s what happens in a war!” 

“Then I don’t want a part in it!” Nico yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. The house went quiet except for the breathing of its occupants. Nico stared at the chipping paint of on the farthest wall, his gaze hard and desperate and hazed with pain. “Then I don’t want to be in it.” He repeated, his voice rough, “My family is all that I have ever had; it’s all that I ever will have, and I don’t want to lose any more of you.” 

“So that’s it?” Hazel was the one who spoke up. “We’re going to quit? Just like that?” Her brother looked up at her and said nothing. The girl licked her lips, “Ten pulls of the trigger and we are hankering down and letting the Germans do what they want?” 

“Hazel—”

“Dad would be disappointed in you, Nico.” That statement made Jason flinch. Nico remained stony faced.

“The villagers—”

“They know what they are getting in to.” Hazel comforted him in a soft tone that was the opposite of the one that she had used not a sentence before.  
Nico just gazed at her tiredly. “So what do you suggest we do?” 

“We keep fighting.” The girl held her chin up high. 

“Until what, they kill all of us? There are barely one hundred and fifty people in the town!” 

“So, we plan one massive attack.” Jason said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“How? We don’t have bombs, or troops, or fire-power.” Nico rubbed at his face. “Besides, even if we could, we’d have to deal with support troops that would flood the mountain the moment that they get word that the base was attacked.” 

“When should the Allies get here?” 

“November. Hopefully.” Hazel said, biting at her right ring finger. 

“It’s risky.” Nico argued.

“It’s the only chance that we have.” Jason whispered, stepping up hesitantly to the table. Nico looked up at him from where his head rested in his arms. “But until then, we will plan and wait to keep casualties to a minimum.” Nico’s posture relaxed slightly at those words, but his face remained impassive. 

Two hours later and Jason was in the gardens, salvaging what vegetables and herbs that he could. Reyna was waiting for him by the fence. Her dogs were by her side. Jason didn’t even to have to ask. “We could find room for you if you wanted to stay with us.” Reyna’s mouth softened and for a minute, she looked like she wanted to thank him. She stopped herself. 

“How are they handling it?” 

“There’s still a state of shock. I thought that Nico was going to kick me out.” Jason said, pulling at an uprooted rosemary bush. 

“I could have found a room for you.” Reyna said, a weak smile on her lips. Jason flicked his dirty hands at her as Argentum and Aurum came over to investigate the upturned dirt. The young woman wiped the black pebbles off her blouse and stared down at the blond man. 

“How did Nico react?” Reyna said after a moment’s hesitation. 

“… He was furious.” 

“You don’t deserve his anger.” 

“He needs someone besides himself to be angry at.” 

“And you’re willing to be that person?” 

“I’m willing to be whatever he and Hazel need for me to be.” 

“Don’t try to be a superhero, Golden Boy.” Reyna said, leaning down to ruffle at Jason’s hair. 

“Only if you all stop trying to trudge on like little toy soldiers. Show what you are actually feeling for once: I know that you can’t be handling all of this as well as you seem to be.” Your sister is dead. Those unspoken words hung in the air. Reyna couldn’t even begin to convey her gratitude that Jason had the tack not to say them. She was barely keeping the façade of normality up as it was.

Reyna let out a huff of a laugh that held no humor or happiness, “That might just be impossible.” She replied. Jason dug his shovel into the freshly upturned earth. As he picked the dirt out from underneath his fingers, he thought about how hard it would be to dig a grave. 

Reyna caught him staring at the ground. “We didn’t ask.” 

“What?” 

“We did not ask for the bodies.”

“Hazel said—”

“I only just managed to convince Nico that asking for burial rights would be a bad idea. It’d draw too much attention to us; now that we are the leaders, we need to stay as inconspicuous as possible.”

“What?” Blue eyes shot up to meet dark brown. 

“We are the resistance leaders in these parts, Jason.” 

The blonde frowned and leaned on the handle of his tool. “Nico’s not even sure if he wants to be a part of this anymore.”

“He’ll come back to his senses.” Reyna’s voice was so sure and steely that it caught Jason by surprise. 

“I wouldn’t try to push him, if I were you.” He whispered, trying to keep the protective growl out of his words. Reyna rose a thin, dark eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t.” 

“Then how are you so sure about what he will do?” 

“Because, besides their protectiveness of each other, there is one common characteristic that the di Angelo’s all share; it’s that they will carry their grudges to their graves.” Both of the teens flinched at the girl’s last word as it fell from her lips. Reyna cleared her throat, “Why else would the whole village be so terrified of angering them?” She asked, scratching Aurum’s ear. “The minute that one of them is threatened or hurt, the other’s will come after the perpetrator like sharks after blood. Then they get hurt.”

“Hazel isn’t that reckless.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Reyna’s voice was calm, but her eyes were tired and worn. Her lips were drawn into an almost sympathetic line. 

“So it’s a damn never-ending circle.” Jason breathed, resting his head against the metal of the shovel’s handle. 

“Yes. If left to their own devices.”

“So what can I do?” 

“You could break the cycle. Keep them safe. Hold them back.” 

“Easier said than done. Nico’s a force of nature.” 

“I never said you had to. Heaven knows, I wouldn’t be able to.” Reyna swallowed, and for just a moment’s time, she looked just as heartbroken as Jason knew that they all felt. He pursed his lips and put a hand on her shoulder. That was all the comfort that he was willing to give her. That was all the comfort that she allowed for him to give her. And so, they stayed there, resting in the dirt of an upturned and trampled garden, looking at the too sunny sky, wishing that it was gray or at least windy.

.......................  
“Nico?” 

“Hm?” The pale young man looked down at his sister. 

“Thank you for controlling yourself.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You wanted to be angry. You wanted to hurt someone. I saw your eyes.” 

“I am still angry, Hazel. We’ll get back at them.” He whispered, and the words were more of a promise than a threat.

“Are you angry at Jason?” 

Here, Nico stopped short, as though he found himself in the middle of a verbal minefield and wasn’t sure which way to progress would be the least dangerous. “I… am angry that he didn’t tell me that he knew. I suppose that I am more angered at Father not telling us his plans, whatever his reasons were.” Hazel felt her eyebrows rise in spite of herself. Nico was always more willing to direct his fury and pain at outsiders. The fact that he was willing to admit that he was more vexed at their father was abnormal, bordering on off-putting.

“That is why you didn’t send him away?” Hazel watched as Nico’s eyes widened. Again, he looked down at the ground. 

“Y-Yes. That is the reason.” It sounded as though Nico was trying to convince himself of that statement as he spoke it. Hazel blinked. She remembered the expression on his face when she and Jason were dancing in Milan. She recalled the softening of his features and the slight upturn of his lips as he watched Jason laugh. She knew that look. She had seen in on Selina’s features when she watched Charlie come in from the fields. She dreamed that it was the way that her father had looked at her mother as they wandered through the winding streets of Venice at night. For a minute, there was silence in the cabin. 

“Nico?” 

“Yes?” 

“May I ask you a personal question?” Was that a cautious twitch of Nico’s lips as he shifted, or did she imagine it? Hazel couldn’t tell. He nodded, silent and small. She opened her mouth, only to find that the question wouldn’t come. She could only watch as fear slowly replace the grief on her brother’s features. She swallowed and got to her feet. She felt Nico tense. Making her way over to him, she threw her arms around his thin shoulders and pulled him close. “It’s not wrong.” She whispered, hoping desperately that he’d understand. She felt Nico tense under her hands, only to slowly relax. His forcefully rhythmic breaths grew ragged. “I don’t think it’s wrong. I don’t think you’re twisted. Dad wouldn’t either. I promise.” Nico began to tremble, his hands coming up to grip the back of her dress. He buried his face in her neck and closed his eyes. She ran a hand through his hair and she shushed him. “Everything will be okay. You’ll be okay. I promise.” 

.............................  
The house seemed so empty when night came. Dinner had been a silent affair, even with Reyna there. The teens had all sat in a small circle on the floor, ignoring the table and kept their eyes down on their food for the entire affair. 

The Nico and Hazel had taken a collective look at their demolished rooms and had decided to drag all of the remaining blankets, pillows, and quilts into their father’s room.  
Jason and Reyna soon joined them in spreading the items around, making makeshift pallets. No one touched the queen bed that rested in the middle of the room, but each of the resistance members made sure that their blanket pile was close enough to touch someone else’s. 

It was because of this close proximity that Jason realized that Nico was missing when he woke up from a nightmare in the dead of night. 

Nico was still sitting at the kitchen table, already pouring over old maps of the mountain. Jason hadn’t realized that they had lasted the raid. Hades probably had hidden them away in the floor boards before, well—Jason shook his head. He walked over to the younger man and sat down on the floor beside him.  
There were dark circles around Nico’s eyes and his knuckles were white. He looked down at the American. “What do you want, Grace?” He asked, his voice scratchy from sleep and not speaking. 

“What are you doing up?” 

“Working.” Nico was hunched over defensively, as if expecting Jason to start criticizing him. Jason knew that Hazel would if she was in his position. Jason decided that might not be the best idea. 

“…Do you want for me to make you some coffee?” Nico stopped short and looked down at the blonde. His eyes were so, so tired. He had picked at his cuticles until they were bloody. His lip had been bitten raw. He was hurting and he didn’t know how to handle it. None of them did.  
Nico shook his head and turned his attention back to the maps in front of him. 

“Yes, please.”

Jason heaved himself up to his feet and walked over to the stove top.

.............................  
Nico watched the American out of the corner of his eye. Jason’s movements were sluggish but precise. He knew where everything was and was as silent as a gust of summer wind. Nico tried to ignore the feeling of comfort that came with the other male just being in the same room as him, but he found that it was impossible. He was finding it harder and harder to ignore the other man’s constant and warm presence. 

He found it hard to believe that the blonde had only been there for four months. He still wasn’t sure why Jason had stayed so long. He, like many people at the tavern, had thought that it was for Hazel, but after the conversation in Milan he wasn’t sure. But if he wasn’t there for her, then why was he staying beside them? 

It’s not for you. Certainly not for you. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Nico’s father rang in his mind, calm and cold. Hades hadn’t used that voice since Hazel had arrived. It sent chills up Nico’s spine and made him look around in an aborted attempt to find the older di Angelo to make sure that the lines around his mouth and eyes were softer. The minute that Nico’s head turned, his stomach flipped. The image of a hanging body swinging in the breeze clouded his mind. He felt his core tighten and there was the distant ‘snap’ of the pencil in his right hand being snapped in two. Jason was by his side in a second’s time, blue eyes graying with concern (but never pity, surprisingly, there was nothing even akin to pity in the American’s eyes). 

“I’m fine.” Nico heard himself whisper. It was quite clear that Jason didn’t believe him. Nico was mentally pleading the soldier to leave it be. 

“No you’re not.” were the words that he got in return because, of course, Jason would be able to see through him as clearly as if he was made out of glass. Nico shuddered; those words were true. He hadn’t been okay for a very long time.

There were reasons why he couldn’t ever bring himself to eat a full meal. Whenever he did, all that he would be able to think about for the rest of the night was the fact that his mother and others were either starving in one of those camps that he had heard his father whisper about to Charon, or died. 

There were reasons why he didn’t sleep. When he did, he was plagued by old dreams of grand cathedrals and a girl’s laughing and “Hurry, Bianca, hurry, look at the pretty glass, look, look!” followed by the deafening roar of the world exploded around them, and glass shattering above them, and warm liquid seeping into his clothes. He would always wake up screaming, because, of course, of course Bianca would feel the need to protect him as she always did, even if that mean shielding him with her own body as chunks of roofing collapsed upon them. Their father had found them in that position. Now even Hades was gone. Everyone was leaving. Everyone was gone. He was alone. All alone.  
Nico almost subconsciously wrapped his arms around his stomach as he felt his throat constrict. To his humiliation, the world around him began to blur and his face grew hot. He swallowed thickly and let out a strangled breath. He wasn’t going to cry. He was too old for tears. He wasn’t that weak.

He jumped when Jason set down the chipped cup in front of him. He glared down at the dark liquid as if it was the cause of his emotional turmoil. Still, he raised the cup to his lips and tried to feign sniffing the drink, if only to clear his nose. If Jason noticed anything, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went back into the bedroom and came back carrying their piles of blankets. He carefully situated his makeshift nest beside the table, leaving enough room for Nico to situate himself if he managed to persuade himself to go back to sleep. Nico watched him with a guarded yet grateful expression. 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“You don’t have to be alone. We all choose our own battles.” The blonde muttered as he laid down and closed his eyes. 

“Thank you.” The words were quiet, spoken so softly, that Jason had thought that he had dreamed them up. The American opened an eye to stare at the Italian. 

He sighed, “’Welcome.” There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again. “Nico?” 

“What is it, Grace?” 

“I don’t think that you deserve to suffer any more than you have. Don’t feel guilty.” 

“You don’t under—”

“Hush.”

Nico didn’t went quiet.

When morning came, Jason found himself curled protectively around a surprisingly small, dark-haired body. Pale fingers were fisted into his shirt. For once, Nico looked peaceful. Jason didn’t move for another two hours.

...........................  
Jason was the one who went to give barrels to Caster. The barkeep wasn’t there, but his brother wearily thanked him and Jason turned to leave. Pollux looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Selina, the bar’s cook, didn’t look any better. Her pretty face was swollen and her eyes were red. Jason could only wonder if anyone hadn’t been affected by the twins’ retribution. Before he managed to take a step away, a hand wrapped around his wrist. “Go into the woods behind the cellar, continue walking straight back for about 300 paces. When you are there, examine the grounds carefully.” Pollux whispered the words, his voice grave and scratchy. When you are done, come back here and tell me what you’ve been told we should do next.”

“What makes you think I know anything?” 

“You lived with Hades.” 

“Shouldn’t Nico or Reyna be the ones you should ask?” 

“If they are going through what we are, they are going to be too busy coping with the pain to be any good at planning.” Selina gave him a watery smile. Jason didn’t know what to say to that. With a nod, he left the building. 

.............................  
194\. 195. 196. The leaves and branches that snapped and crinkled under Jason’s feet made him cringe with each step that he took. He searched the trees in the distance, trying to ease the paranoia that was clouding his thoughts. There was no one around and nothing be heard except for bird’s calls and the sounds of the village in the back ground.  
At 235, Jason found himself in a clearing.

297\. 298. 299… He surveyed the area, but there was nothing to see except for a knee high grass and a decrepit shed in the distance. Jason felt his right eyebrow twitch upward as he made his way to the crumbling building. In better times, it might have been used as storage for hay, or wheat, or maybe even livestock. It was certainly large enough.  
The doors were only just barely open, as though whoever had last closed them had done so in a hurry. The hinges were rusted and squeaky from disuse. Jason grunted and dug his toes into the ground as he pulled against the once silver handle that had turned brown with age and water damage. Finally, the doors gave away, swinging back with agitated groans. The sight before him made him stop short. 

In the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes, there was an object covered by three tarps. The sheets of linen only just brushed the ground, rustled by a breeze that Jason couldn’t sense. Jason swallowed and took the required eight steps. The object felt cold underneath his hands, even though the cloth. With a deep breath, the Airman tugged backward at the corner of the tarp. 

The gold words Pluto’s Prophesy were crisp and bright, painted on sleek and undented metal. Jason felt a small, choked laugh bubble in his throat. He had to bite his cheek and clinch his fists to keep his lips from trembling. With shaking fingers, he grabbed at the two other tarps and pulled. 

Jason barely noticed when his knees gave way. Finally, finally, he let himself hide his face from the world. Finally, finally, as he rested his back against the side of his renovated plane, he let himself not be perfect. 

.............................  
When Jason got back to the house, he was greeted by Aurum. Hazel waved at him from the kitchen. Nico and Reyna were crowded around the kitchen table, hunched over in an attempt to be quiet. The Airman made his way to the younger di Angelo sibling. She gazed at him with an analytical gleam in her eyes. “What?” he asked. 

“What happened?”

“I--Your father completely renovated my plane and is hiding it for me in an abandoned farm shed.” Those words got Nico’s attention. 

“Why?” The black-haired youth asked, his voice curious and more than slightly bitter. Hades hadn’t left him or Hazel anything. 

“I don’t know.” Nico took a second to process Jason’s response before nodding and turning his attention back to Reyna. Jason frowned and made his way over to the two resistance members.

“What’s up?” 

“Field plans.” Reyna said. 

“Future attack plans.” Nico continued. Jason looked at the diagrams of the mountains, and then at the red arrows that were scattered over the black lines. “…That’s a lot of attack fronts.”

Nico nodded, rubbing at his temples, as though he had a headache. Jason rested a hand on the back of the Italian’s neck and squeezed. Nico tensed immediately at the touch, but didn’t move away. He let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t the only one who gained just a shred of comfort from the contact. Jason could feel the weight of Hazel’s stare, but he didn’t make any move to acknowledge her. He just continued to focus charts before him. 

“How many men would this operation take?” 

“Depends.” 

“How so?” 

“We could use explosives. We’d be able to use less people.” 

“That could be really dangerous.” Jason argued. 

“You were the one who said that we’d have to do one massive overtake.” Hazel countered from her spot in front of the stove.

“It was just an idea.” 

“It’s either that, or sneak in to off all of the leaders. Which do you think would be easier?” Reyna’s eyes were stern.

“I’m more worried about the body count.” Jason looked at Nico from the corner of his eyes. He remembered the argument that he, Nico, and Hazel had had barely a day ago. He knew that was exactly what was on the other teen’s mind as well. Nico’s eyes were focused on the outline of the Nazi base. They sparkled with a gleam that was either worry, madness, or vengeful. Jason wasn’t sure which. He just ran his thumb in a circle along pale skin. 

...............................  
Spring blossomed into summer was surpassed by into fall. The air was getting brisker and colder. Jason’s breath had clouded in the air that morning. There had even been frost on the ground. Winter was creeping closer every day. Jason wished that he could say the same for the Allied troops. 

“What the hell do you mean they are stopped at the Apennine Range?!”

“The Germans have entrenched them in Cassino. They did not have the support, nor the ease they thought that would.” Jason pursed his lips at the way that Midas sneered those  
words. It was as if he thought that it was Nico’s fault that partisans were growing weary of fighting what they thought to be fruitless battles. 

“We need their backing.” Reyna added. God, was that statement true. She was resting her head in her hands. Her hair was coming down from its orderly braid. 

“Perhaps if you had been more speedy and decisive in your prior planning, this would not be such an issue.”

“I am sorry, I had my plans ready three months ago. If my memory serves me right, it was the groups under your jurisdiction that were indecisive about my strategies.” Nico growled. 

“Perhaps they didn’t want to put all of their blind faith into a boy.”

“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!” Jason felt Hazel flinch at the harsh anger that was laced into Nico’s words. Midas refused to back down to the young leader (who was morphing into a younger version of his father by the day). He looked down his nose at the boy and Jason barely resisted the urge to punch him. In fact, he probably would have, had Michael Yew and Pollux not placed their hands on his arms.

“Don’t you think about it, Golden Boy. The shit’s not worth the time.” Yew growled, his brown eyes narrowed to slits. His words were hissed through gritted teeth. Reyna said nothing, but Jason knew to fear the darkness that her eyes held. Argentum growled from his place in the corner, sensing his mistress’s rage. 

Nico was the one to look away. He was the one to back down. He took a step back and let out the breath that he had been holding. “I’m through with this. I need to go revise my plans. I wish I could say that it has been a pleasure, but it really hasn’t.” With that, he left the tavern.

Reyna was the first one who caught up with him. The young woman shifted her knapsack onto her other shoulder and fell into place beside the Ghost King. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” He muttered, shivering as a gust of wind cut through his jacket with ease.

“Plan B.” 

Nico rubbed at his eyes and nodded tiredly. “We’ll need seven people.” 

“And a ton of explosives.”

“Thanks to Jason, we have 2.2 tons of the stuff that will work just fine.” 

“We’ll need to be careful though. Aerial bombs are known for being unstable when jarred.”

“We’ll figure something out.” 

“Who should I tell to pack their bags?” 

“Yew, Solance, Fletcher, perhaps Selina if she wants to join us. I will get my people ready.” 

“You’re letting them come?” 

“They’d have my hide if I didn’t.” 

“If you came back with a hide. This isn’t a normal mission, Nico.” 

“I know.” The boy sighed, feeling around in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He had taken the habit up at the start of the fall. Jason had followed his example. Thankfully, neither of them lit up too regularly. Reyna swiped the small stick from the youth’s hands. 

“If you are worried, then talk about it. We don’t have enough of these for you or Golden-boy to get addicted.” Those words tasted foul on her lips. If there was one thing that Reyna was uncomfortable with, it was discussing feelings. Nico raised a dark eyebrow at her, and in the light of the afternoon he really did look like the Roma’s son that everyone thought that he was.

“You want to talk about troubles?” He asked, incredulously. 

“Do you think I want to talk about them?” 

“Then let’s not.” 

“You are worried.” 

“Of course I am. Like you said, this could very easily line up to be a suicide mission.” 

“Yet you are letting your little sister and inamorato come.” 

Nico’s jaw clinched at the second to last word and his eyes grew threatening. “He is not—” 

“No, but you want him.” 

“I—”

“I don’t care.” 

“We are not having this conversation.” Nico snapped, growing more and more defensive.

“I’m just glad that you’ve finally managed to get over the last one. It took you, what, eight years?” If Nico had been tense before, he was as still as a statue now, all flexed muscle and glittering dark eyes. Reyna sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Go get your people ready.”

......................  
Dusk was slow to come for the resistance members once they got to the area were they could watch the compound wind down for the night. By the end of the second hour, even Reyna was growing tired of waiting for the German encampment’s liveliness to wane. Jason had sat himself down on a cluster of gray-stone. Hazel moved to sit beside him. She watched his eyes track Nico’s movements around the clearing. 

Fletcher collapsed beside the duo, rubbing at his sore ankles. He and Yew had been the ones who had been charged with carrying the gasoline, which, it turned out, was quite heavy in bulk. Jason was surprised that they had gotten as much of it as they had from the raids on the German supply trucks. Weren’t the Germans supposed to be rationing the stuff? “Hang! My feet are going to do me in before the Nazis even find me.” Lee smiled at Jason. “Me and Charlie spent a good three weeks fixing up all of the parts of that plane of yours using spare parts from his shop, and what could did that get me besides calloused fingers.” He laughed softly. 

“Sorry we couldn’t use it here.” 

The former soldier waved Jason’s apology away, “No need to get sentimental on me, Golden-Boy: you don’t have a gunman yet. Find one of those before the next raid though, yeah?” 

“You want me to train you?” 

“Find a way to do it without getting us both offed and you got yourself a gunner.” 

Jason smirked, “Easier said than done. For all the training that we went through to use one, it’s not really all that different from a regular old machine gun."

“Well then, ask one of your crew here to do it with you if it is so easy. I’d rather do something that requires my expertise and skill.” 

“Well then, if we are ever having a sing off, I’ll call for you immediately.” Lee chortled at Jason’s words and patted the blonde’s back as he rose to his feet. 

“Gonna go see if Selina wants to talk.” He whispered, his voice taking on a solemn edge. He was one of the few people who was able to make the girl smile anymore. Jason nodded. He leaned into Hazel ever so slightly and found his eyes drawn back to Nico, who was pacing.

“Time to get this show on the road.” Michael said, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. There was a collective groan of the company as they rose their feet. 

“Jason,” Hazel asked, her voice wavering slightly towards the end of the name. It was quiet and hesitant and more than slightly fearful. He immediately turned his head toward her.  
“What are your intentions with my brother?” Jason nearly dropped his gun at Hazel’s words. He stopped and turned around to face the dark-skinned girl. Hazel was staring at him with a guarded expression that was nearly ruined by the light blush that was accenting her cheeks. She glared at him, clearly expecting an answer.

“Nothing.” He answered truthfully. For just a second, Hazel’s face softened at his look of veiled panic.

“I-If he—what I mean to say is that—he’s very—I wouldn’t mind if it was with you. If that’d make him happier. I-I wouldn’t mind.” Hazel stammered the words, her voice growing softer at every syllable. Jason was expecting her to start fanning herself any minute. It took Jason a second to decipher the phrases but when he did, all that he could do was smile faintly at the girl who was busy wringing her hands. 

There was a ‘whoosh’ of air and lips grazed Hazel’s cheek. “Thank you.” He whispered into her ear.

“We’ll be safe.” She muttered back as he rested a hand on her head. She smiled at Nico, who had been watching the exchange with a curious and intrigued expression. Perhaps there was the slightest quirk of jealousy in the twitch of his lips. 

He turned away. “Hazel go with Jason, Reyna, you go with Yew, Silena, you got with Solance. Fletcher, you’re with me.” 

“Aye-aye, Cap.” Lee said, his lips tilting up in a grin that was half-way in between a smile and a smirk.

“Everyone, remember the plan. You have twenty minutes to get to your station and ten to set up your explosive. At the thirty minute mark, we blast this place sky high.”

...................................  
Jason and Hazel’s walk wasn’t as long as some of the others. They were assigned to destroying one of the main barracks. Thankfully, the German soldiers seemed to all be asleep. It only took Jason seven minute to prop the bomb up against the wooden shelter. It only took Hazel three minutes to pour out a trail of gasoline that they could light. She used the rest of the liquid to douse the explosive, before returning to Jason. The blonde tilted his watch up to the moonlight. Twelve minutes to spare. He breathed out a sigh of relief, only to gulp it back when there was a distant blast.

The noise was the first thing that jerked Jason to attention. His eyes shot up to the sky, where, sure enough, flames licked at the distance sky. It was too soon. They weren’t ready. He grabbed Hazel’s wrist to keep from her moving. German shouts of alarm filled the air. He took in the fear that was reflected in her eyes as he went down the mental list of everyone’s positions in his head. Reyna was at 10 o’clock. Michael was at 8. Selina was at 6. Nico was at… Damn. Damn the gods and the sky and the time and the-- That was Nico's bomb. Nico's bomb was the one that was sending out waves of wrathful fire. Nico's bomb was the one the exploded before the start time. Nico--

“Nico—” The inferno only climbed higher as Jason felt Hazel still beside him, understanding his thought process instantly. 

Nico.

Shouts were heard from the barracks. Jason quickly struck a match and threw it onto the wet ground. It took ten seconds. Ten seconds for the wave of heat and shouts of pain to reach Jason’s ears alongside the boom. By that time, he and Hazel were already running, the ground flying from beneath their feet.

Nico.


	6. Living Beyond Your Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to formally make an apology for how long this took, and I would like to thank every single one of you who kept sending me encouragements to keep going. Thank you so much!

It’s funny how fear seems to numb the physical limitations that your body has. Jason’s heart was pounding and his lungs were burning. He had slipped twice, but had caught himself both times. The air in the forest was thick with smoke, which was contributing to the pain in his lungs. He was all but running blind, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All that he could hear was the harshness of his breathing and the sound of Hazel’s feet thudding in rhythm with his own. 

The minute the duo rushed into the charred and smoldering clearing, they immediately split, searching frantically for a sign. For anything…

“What the hell are you doing?!” Reyna’s voice was angry, and stern, and panicked as she pushed herself out of the trees. Her face was covered in a mixture of dirt and soot. Jason’s hands were quickly turning black from ash as he pushed through the rubble. The young woman stumbled over to the crouched man. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she tried to pull him back into the cover of the trees. There were German orders hanging in the air. 

With a sharp jerk, Jason pulled himself out of the girl’s grip. He stared up at her and she gazed down at him and a whole conversation was said in only a heartbeat’s time. Jason was the one who looked away first. He stared down at the dead ground and clinched fistfuls of burning grass into his palms in an attempt to stave away the hallow feeling that was beginning to grip at his chest. With shaky hands and a bowed head, he rose to his feet. His companion just watched him with understanding. With a final pat to his shoulder, she got up to go find Hazel. Jason grabbed her wrist and shook his head. 

“Let me.” He was startled by the choked off whisper that was his own voice. If Reyna thought he sounded strange, she gave no acknowledgement of it. She just nodded and pointed to where the dark-skinned girl was crouched in the rubble. The German shouting was growing louder with each passing minute. Reyna quickly moved back into the safety of the trees. Jason crawled over half-burned down support beams, melting rubber, and scorching metal to get to the girl. 

Hazel was shivering with tears running down her cheeks. Her face was blotchy and her hair was tangled with leaves and branches. The only thing about her that was calm was the way that she pushed at anything large enough to be covering a body. Her fingers were bleeding and she was whimpering prayers under her breath. “Hazel,” Jason called, reaching for the younger girl, “Hazel, we have to go. They are coming. We have to leave.” 

“No. No! He’s here! He’s here! W-We just need to find him! We—” Jason breathed out through his nose and hauled the girl to her feet before spinning her around to face him. 

“Hazel, there are soldiers coming!” He did not raise his voice. He didn’t yell. He punctuated each word clearly and carefully, much like he had heard Hades do when he was trying to defuse an all-out fight. Hazel’s lips twisted into a snarl as her eyes hardened into a glare. 

“H-He loved you a-and you’re just going to leave him?!” Jason froze at those words, recoiled, but managed to make himself move again immediately. It was all mechanical by this point. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time to think. He couldn’t let himself wonder or else he knew that he would lose everything that was barely holding him together. He pulled her into the shadow of the nearest tree and clamped a hand over her mouth when she started to hiss insults at him. There were the footsteps of soldiers running into the woods. Jason’s limited knowledge of German meant that he couldn’t determine if they were trying to get away from the fire, or if they were looking for the ones who started it. He prayed that it was the first option. Jason only let the girl go when the sounds of feet crunching on rubble had faded. She whirled on him with bright eyes and a snarl. There was a flash of pain as her palm hit his cheek and there were tears in her eyes. Jason gritted his teeth and let her vent in searing whispers. 

“I hate you!” 

“I know! I know! I don’t care! I’m not going to let them take you away too!” With that, he grabbed her hand took off in the direction of the village. It was the way that Reyna and the rest of the company had gone. He was vaguely surprised when he felt her fingers interlock with his own and squeeze tightly. He heard her coughing and sniffling as they raced down the only slightly beaten path and knew that at least a part of her was sorry for the words that she had said to him. He deserved her fury. He pressed their palms together and carried on. About a mile into the run, he stopped short, nearly causing Hazel to trip over him. He thought back to the soldiers who had run past them. He thought back to the buildings in the fort that were still standing. He took a deep breath and changed directions. Within the hour, they were standing in front of the old abandoned barn house. Jason immediately made his way to the doors, jerking them open. He walked inside, but not before glancing around the clearing, paranoid. 

Hazel stumbled after him, confused. “W-What?” She choked out, rubbing at her nose with the hem of her sleeve. 

“Do you want to kill them as bad as I do?” 

Her golden eyes turned steely, “How?” There was a savage gleam in Jason’s eyes as he grabbed the corner of the tarp and pulled. The bright and polished metal shone brightly in the reflected light of the moon. Jason looked over at Hazel, who was staring at him with an unreadable but hardened expression. “It’s easier than pulling a gun.” He whispered and the words hung in the air.   
“Only the fort?” 

“Only the fort.” Jason affirmed. Hazel took a deep breath in before releasing it slowly. Then she made her way to the side to jump onto the wing. Jason was surprised to see just how easily she moved around the plane. She looked down at him from her perch. 

“We don’t have many bombs.” Jason said as he made his way toward her. 

“That means that we’ll have to shoot at them, doesn’t it?” Hazel asked, which Jason affirmed with a nod. “Good.” The girl muttered before crawling into the cockpit. Jason just hoped that they had enough of a runway to get off the ground. 

.........................................................  
The night sky was dark and clouded and Hazel was clawing at the back of Jason’s seat as they took off into the air. Her eyes were trained onto the depths of the passing tree tops below them. There was silence in the plane. 

It only took a handful of minutes for Jason to approach the encampment. He turned back to tell Hazel to get into position, only to find that she was already hovering beside the gun in the back of the cockpit. Gold eyes met blue. “Are you ready?” He asked, his voice just barely loud enough to be heard above the din of the engine. Hazel nodded, her hair whipping around her shoulders as Jason tossed her the pair of extra goggles that he had found in the passenger’s seat. Jason tightened his grip on the steering wheel and readied for the dive. 

Hazel thought that it was strange that the men below weren’t even trying to fire back at them. They had anti-plane guns set up in at least six places. At least, they had, until Hazel sent their weaponry up in smoke and flames, only adding to the wreckage of the campsite. 

Perhaps, if she had been in a calmer mindset, she would have been able to stop herself. She would have been able to think about what she was doing and hesitate before pressing down on the trigger. But she wasn’t. Her brother’s name was cycling through her head like a mantra and she passively found that she did not care about the foreign soldiers’ pain. She didn’t care about the lives that she was taking, or the families that would be harmed. All that she cared about was the fact that if this worked, the village wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore, and no one else would die, and maybe, just maybe, the ants running in between the trees below her would understand the pain that they had made everyone she loved go through.

“Do you trust me?” She called back from the tail of the aircraft, having to shout over the wind. She was pointing the guns downward, away from the barracks and trenches, toward the charred forest that they had been standing in not two hours ago. A knot of Nazi soldiers were scrambling for shelter beneath the trees. Jason felt a flash of blind panic coarse through his veins because Nico was down there too.

He jerked the plane down so that the girl wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” 

“Trust me!” 

“Nico might be down there! Those guns aren’t a simple point and shoot: the bullets are too big! You’ll—”

“He’s not down there!” Hazel’s voice was tight and bitter and mournful and Jason hated it. “I’d know it if he was!” She refused to meet Jason’s gaze. 

Jason swallowed, curling his hands tighter around the steering wheel. “Alright,” He called back through gritted teeth. “What is your plan?” 

“Dive.” With a deep breath, Jason did just that. 

.........................................................  
By the time that they were through with their revenge, there were no standing structures. There was only burning embers and charred ground. Men, soldiers, lay in pools of scarlet. The land was scared with holes and shrapnel. The duo was quiet, unwilling to face the other and admit to what they had done. Afraid to acknowledge that they had just murdered a station of men in cold blood and felt not even a shred of regret. At least, not for the bodies that littered the ground like weeds. 

Hazel curled in upon herself as Jason circled the encampment one last time, his eyes scanning furtively for any survivors. For Nico. There was no one. 

“Jason.” Hazel’s voice echoed due to the metal of the interior. “Can we go home? Please?” There was no hitch of emotion in her voice. It was a simple request, inquired in a monotone. It would have hurt the American pilot less if she had started crying. Mechanically, Jason felt his hands turn the wheel to the left and they flew away, away from the destruction. Away from the death. 

.........................................................

By the time they landed, they were both shaking from exertion, both mental and physical. Hazel leaned into the man as she slid down the wing onto the ground. The moment her feet touched the wooden panels of the floorboards, she sank down to her knees, almost crumpling into herself as she wrapped her arms around her head. She was quiet as she cried, like Nico. Both of the siblings knew better than to let others know of their fears. Jason let himself kneel down beside her, bowing his head, wishing that there was a way to take away her sorrow and pain. Hazel had always been so happy. So cheerful. The only light in the room, at times. 

“I-I’m sorry.” She hiccupped, blinking through her tears. “I’m sorry.” It took Jason a minute to realize that those words were directed at him. 

“What for?” 

“F-For saying that—for saying those things back there. I didn’t mean them. I know—” She cut herself off, trying to school her expression. “I know that you cared about him just as much as I did. A-And, I think, that he’d like for you to know that he felt the same way. About you. I-I—” 

“Hazel, please stop talking.” 

“But—”

“P-Please.” At the falter in Jason’s voice, Hazel stopped short. There was a pleading glint in her eyes, along with the intense shine of guilt. With a sigh, she nudged herself closer to the American so that their arms were touching. She rested her hand on top of his and squeezed, pretending that she couldn’t see the look on the man’s face as he clinched his hands into fists and dug his nails into the flesh of his palms. 

 

Reyna was waiting for them outside. There was something broken in her reserved expression as she scanned over them, as if taking a head count and coming up one short. She shook her head.  
“How many men escaped?” She asked, her voice hard. 

“Enough that we are going to have a problem in the near future.” Hazel murmured. Reyna pursed her lips and began to fiddle with the end of her braid. 

“I will need to call a meeting, then.” 

“Great. More Midas.” Yew said, jogging up quietly. There were a few sparse cuts on his face and hands. It seemed as though none of them had gotten through the attack uninjured. Jason looked down at his own blackened and blistered hands. Michael took one look at him and walked over. 

“Selina has a first aid kit back at the tavern. Do you want me to go and get her to fix you two up, or do you think—”

“We’ll head over there now.” Hazel said, her voice still flat. Reyna looked at the younger girl with poorly concealed worry. Jason managed to catch the lieutenant’s gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, the woman nodded, giving them her go ahead to leave. As they stepped out into the night, Jason turned back. “Please come back to the house later. We’ll talk about what to do next, okay?” There was a tense silence, before Reyna nodded one last time. Jason righted himself and place a hand on Hazel’s arm. He tried not to look surprised when she leaned into his touch, taking care not to touch any of his wounds. Carefully, supporting each other, they stumbled back into society. 

The house was silent when they returned. Clean, orderly, just like they had left it. There was still water in the kettle on the stove. There were still four plates set up on the table. Jason looked down at the pillows and quilts that lie on the kitchen floor, savage in their banality. With shaking fingers, he reached down and grabbed at the corners of the covers. He carried them into the room that had been used as Nico’s bedroom, not so long ago. Methodically, he began to fold them, corner to corner, mindful of creases. 

Jason startled when there was the ‘thunk’ of something metal hitting the floor. Looking down, he found the knife that Nico had kept by his side every night that he slept, buried deep in the floorboard. For a minute, Jason did nothing. He stood as still, a lost sentinel without a charge. Then, he reached down, running a finger along the blade of the weapon. He didn’t even wince at the jolt of pain that ran up his spine. As blood weld up from the cute could almost hear Nico’s voice, chiding him to always, always hold the blade’s hilt and never the blade, never—  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, moving his hand up to firmly grasp the hilt. “I love you and I’m sorry for everything.” He tugged, feeling the natural resistance of the wood give way. “I’ll protect Hazel.” He whispered. “I promise.” That was all he could do now, wasn’t it? Jason looked down at the newly unearthed blade and bit his lip. 

.........................................................  
It had been three weeks. Three weeks of keeping Nico’s bedroom door closed. Of cooking meals for five, only to realize that there were only three of them now. Three weeks of days and nights that blurred together in a haze. 21 days of eat, work, eat, plan, sleep, and try not to remember, try not to dream, try not to think. It was on the twenty-second day that whispers of Nazi’s reoccupying the mountains came about. Those mutterings were enough to set the whole rebel army on edge. And so, they waited until nightfall, as always, and then began their trek with rifles, switchblades, and machineguns in hand. They thought that it would be an hour long battle with few soldiers and even fewer deaths. They were wrong. 

Jason found himself backed into a corner, alternatively flicking his eyes from the gun that was pointed at his head, to the forest where he was supposed to have made his escape thirteen minutes ago. His arms were tired and panged with every move he took. The air was ringing and the ground was spinning. There was blood congealing on his face. He didn’t know if it was his own. It probably was. He had taken a pretty bad punch to the head when he slit the throat of a man who had had the nerve to try to grapple Hazel. He had tossed his gun to Reyna when he saw that she was out of bullets. He was more comfortable with hand to hand combat anyway. If the fight was an equal match.

Jason gripped his blade tightly to his chest, knowing that he was at severe disadvantage and would probably not last more than ten seconds up against a gun, but being unwilling to go down without a fight. Colors swirled together and it took all of Jason’s attention not to fall to his knees because his head was throbbing. “With the amount of times that you get into fights, I could honestly assume that you have a death wish.” A cold voice said and with a cry of pain, the soldier holding the semi-automatic crumbled to the ground. A man stood in place of the fallen soldier, and looked down at Jason. His hood was pulled up, concealing his face, and his long coat was made of a dark material that rustled around his legs due to the pull of the wind. He could easily played the part of an avenging angel. 

He let his crimson tipped weapon fall to the ground next to the German, and kicked the gun toward Jason. Without much care, he stepped over the corpse and knelt down beside the blond. Soft yet calloused fingers brushed over the wound on Jason’s forehead. The touch was feather soft but grounding in a way that Jason couldn’t even begin to describe. 

“Who?” Jason croaked, trying to lift his head up higher but stopping short when it brought about even more pain to his aching limbs. 

“You idiot, stop moving around so much. You’re lucky he didn’t shoot! Where is your gun?” 

“Reyna has it.”

“What?” 

“S-She’s a better shot.” 

“What the hell inspired you to do that? What if I were a German soldier who was coming to help his companion end your existence?” 

“Then I’d be dead.” Jason said, and a distant part of him was surprised by his own nonchalance at the thought. That made the man stop short to stare at him. 

Finally, he looked away. His hood caught the wind, fluttering down just enough to reveal olive skin. There was a moment’s hesitation before the newcomer reached up with shaky hands to pull at the material. A familiar face surrounded by closely cropped hair was revealed. Dark brown eyes tinged with green peered down worriedly at the blond. Jason felt his throat close around any and all words that might escape his lips. Nico was still, as if waiting for Jason to say something, anything. When nothing came, he reached down to help the other to his feet. Jason didn’t accept the aid. With no care as to how his body was feeling, the American jerked up and grabbed the smaller man around the shoulders. He felt the bitterness, the sadness, and the despair well up in his throat, only to be immediately replaced by anger.

The wolfish growl that clawed its way past his lips could barely be qualified as human. “Where the hell were you?!” he snapped, only just managing to keep his voice lowered. 

“I—”

“No! We searched the woods for you for days! Hazel was beside herself! I could barely sleep, barely eat, because of you!” I cried for you. I mourned for you. He wanted to whisper those words. He wanted to enfold the Italian into his arms and feel the beat of his heart against his chest to ensure that he was real. 

He wanted to bury his face into thick, curling hair and never let go. But that sort of thing was not done. So, instead, he raged. 

Nico just watched him with tired eyes that shone with a distant sort of flickering light. He reached up to wrap one of his hands around the blond’s straining arm, and that was when Jason’s gaze focused upon his bandaged limb. His last two fingers were completely gone. All that remained were stumps shrouded in stained gauze. 

Jason felt his mind sharpen and his body go tight with panic because, God, Nico was injured, and Gods, someone had dared to raise their hand against Nico. “Who did this to you?” His voice was a whisper in the wind, a promise of bloodshed. He saw his reflection in Nico’s eyes and took in the way that his features darkened with bloodlust. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“The hell it doesn’t—”

“They are dead. I killed them all.” There was something broken in Nico’s voice. Something that had shattered into a million tiny shards while they had been parted. That alone terrified Jason more than any wound the Italian had sustained. And Nico had been through a lot. 

He was hunkered down, protecting his stomach, probably due to bruised or broken ribs, and there were three angry cuts slashed across his face. One of his eyes had a dark bruise forming beneath it. 

“Nico—” Jason felt all of the anger rush out of him as he reached out to trail a gentle thumb across the wounds that marred the Italian’s left cheek. 

The younger man froze up at the caress, but he refused to let himself flinch away. The moment Jason noticed the flash of uneasy almost-fear, he pulled his hand away as if the contact burn him. 

“What happened?” 

Nico opened his mouth to respond when there was a scream, followed by the clatter of weapons. In a blink’s time, he found himself staring at Hazel. He watched on, open mouthed as she swayed where she stood. There was a moment of stillness before she flung herself at him, skinny arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face in his chest. That was when Nico started trembling, his lips shakily moving into a smile as he nuzzled into her wild curls. Neither of them said a word, they just clung to each other as if they were each other’s life line in a stormy sea.  
Jason took a step forward, but Reyna appeared in the clearing before he had a chance to speak. She had been drawn by the cry, no doubt. He watched as she attempted to form words, only to shake her head when she couldn’t think of what to say. Then she shouldered his gun, pointing it in the direction which she had come. 

“Five men were following me!” She shouted to him, causing him grab his weapon from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nico let go of Hazel, crouching down into an attack position, regardless of the pain that he must be in. The world blurred when Jason cocked his head to the side to get a clearer view, causing him to bite back a groan. 

“Where are the others?” He heard Nico bite out, though it was like the boy’s voice was muffled. 

“Escaped, hopefully.” Reyna muttered, “I know Pollux, Selena, Yew got out. I’m not sure what happened to Solace.” Jason tried not to curse.

“Who here isn’t injured?” Nico asked, his voice almost wry. No one rose their hand. With a nod and a wary look toward the path, where sure enough, there were sounds of approaching opponents. “Can everyone run?” There was a uniform nodding of the heads. Nico’s eyes glimmered. “One hundred yards from here, there is a cabin to the left of the road. If we get there, the soldiers will not be a problem.” 

“Lead the way.” Reyna decided for the group. 

.........................................................  
The ground was uneven and rocky off of the beaten track, though after about one hundred feet, it became clear that they were actually following a sort of path. Jason spared a glance back to see that the soldiers were following them through the trees and underbrush. He said nothing, only rushed for the small, rickety looking cottage. With what could have very well been his least remaining burst of strength, he threw open the door, ushering the rest of the group through the opening. As Nico stepped through the threshold, he let out a shrill whistle. Jason looked down at him in confusion.

 

“Whose place is this, Nico?” Hazel asked

“Shut the door! Shut the door!” A snarling howl accompanied Nico’s urgent whispers. There was a blur of black as Jason slammed the door shut, followed by the screams of soldiers and the sounds of liquid hitting the window. There was the sounds of rapid gunfire, but that did nothing to deter the barks and growls of the beast outside. Jason slid to the cool ground of the cabin and looked up at the window that was covered in crimson blood splatters. He felt his stomach turn as he forced his eyes down to the ground. 

“What the—” Reyna had an uncharacteristic look of panic on her features. Her hair was askew and there was blood dripping down her right arm. 

“That’s Cerberus. Bob’s guard dog.” 

“Bob?” 

“Bob. A German deserter who found me back when… when… after. He healed me. About a week ago, he went off to hunt and hasn’t been back.” 

“He’s dead then?” Reyna asked. Nico just sighed and shrugged. Jason struggled to stay awake. He barely stirred from his spot when he heard someone calling his name, growing more and more frantic with every repeat. 

“Jason? Jason!” It was the note of panic in Hazel’s voice that forced the older man to crack his eyes open. 

“Tired…” He whispered groggily. He heard the room go quiet once more before feeling callused fingers trail up his neck to rest on the tip of his chin, gently, his head tilted toward the window so that he was bathed in the red light. He squinted at the harsh light, before letting his eyes drift shut again.

“Head wound,” Reyna’s voice said, “Probably a concussion. Jason, I need for you to stay awake.” 

“’Rather not.” 

“If you go to sleep now, you may never wake up again. Open your eyes, Grace.” There was an unspoken plea in her voice. She had lost too many soldiers already. Jason knew this, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

There was a shuffling sound in the background before Jason felt something, someone, all but mold themselves to his side. At first he thought that it was Hazel, but then Nico spoke up, right next to his ear. “We are safe in here now that Cerberus is on look out. Most of the soldiers around here know not to come close to the house. We can leave at nightfall.” 

“But they have guns.” 

“Cerberus can pretty much out run or dodge most bullets. It won’t hurt him if he gets hit by a few, either, so long as we clean up the wounds.” 

“Hit by a few? Gods, is this dog some sort of monster?!” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of government experiment.” Nico said, his voice calm as he relaxed against Jason’s arm. The blonde’s breath sputtered out of his chest and he prayed to each every god that he could think of that Nico wouldn’t notice. One of the deities must have taken pity on him, because Nico just continued. “He won’t attack you if you are with me.” Reyna went quiet at that, not because she didn’t have anything else to say on the matter, but because she was concerned about what was safe to speak out loud.   
Unvoiced questions congregated into an oppressive silence the way that little droplets of water vapor form into thunderous cloud formations. Jason forced himself to stir, to crack open his eyes in order to look at the once missing di Angelo sibling. 

“Where were you?” He whispered, the statement ringing with just as much tension, confusion, and pain as it had the first time that his lips had forced it into words. He wasn’t sure if Reyna or Hazel heard it, but judging by the way that Nico’s muscles tightened, it was clear that he had.

“Here. I was here.” He whispered, and there was something in his voice that was pleading with Jason not to press the issue.

“Who hurt you?” 

“Fletcher detonated the bomb too early and we were attacked. They are dead.” 

“Your fingers—”

“Don’t—” The shattered, barely held together, tremble was back in Nico’s voice, “—Just… don’t, please.” 

.........................................................  
The sun was high in the sky, when Jason was jerked out of a daydream to a scream. Nico and Reyna had been napping, while Hazel stood guard on the door. He jerked to attention, his hand diving underneath his jacket to where he had stashed Nico’s knife. The metal glinted in the afternoon sun, illuminating the shadowed room with a glow. The reflection outlined the form of a trembling youth. Jason immediately rose to his feet and stumbled over to where Nico was crouched. Both Hazel and Reyna had turned at the outburst. Hazel was the first one to reach her brother. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she gripped his arms and pulled him to her. Jason shared a glance with Reyna, before moving closer, draw in by an unstoppable force. 

“Nico? Nico, what happened? What’s wrong?” 

“N-No.” Nico was 

“B-But you were screaming, are you in pain? Are you hurt? What—”

“Fletcher didn’t die in the explosion.” Nico finally muttered, trembling in Hazel’s arms.

“They killed him in front of me, held me down and shot him through the head, execution style, as if he was nothing more than cattle.” The words were uttered in a way that was devoid of emotions, cool and precise. Judging by the way that Nico’s eyes were flitting back and forth, glinting in the dark, Jason knew that he was reciting the experience perfectly, that it had been cycling through his mind like the words right before a scratch on a faulty record. He felt his mouth tremble open, but before he could whisper any comforts, Nico had continued.   
“They dragged me beside him. Made me kneel in the grass and his blood soaked into my pants. The leaders, one of the twins, pressed the barrel to the back of my neck, pulled the hammer back, and…” Nico trailed off, looking out at nothing, staring at the wall with bleary eyes. 

“I should have died. I don’t know what made him hesitate. What made him stop. All I knew was that there was a moment of clarity and then everything blurred.” Nico swallowed, thick and unsteady. “I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know where I got the knife. When Bob found me, I was surrounded by bodies in uniform with a burned hand that was missing the last two fingers.” He held up the limb for emphasis and in the dim light, Jason was surprised to see just how much he had missed on his first observation. It wasn’t just the stumps that were bloody, but the whole hand. The small amount of skin that wasn’t covered at the bottom was blackened and charred, almost skeletal. It was a wonder that Nico could even move the remaining fingers, for if they were as badly burned as his wrist, he had to be in absolute agony. 

Jason watched Nico lick at his lips before moving to bite at the inside of his cheek. Nico’s uninjured hand curled into a fist, while the other simply twitched. “I should have died.” Nico repeated, his voice trembling. Jason could only move closer and rest his forehead against the nape of the other’s neck, carefully watching to see if Nico was okay with the touch. There was nothing that he could think of that would relieve at least a fraction of the other’s pain. No whispered comforts that would hold any meaning. 

It was an hour later, when Reyna had moved back to the door to keep watch and Hazel had fallen asleep with her head in Nico’s lap, that Jason finally managed to find his tongue, “I've seen a lot of brave things.” He whispered his voice soft, “But you are the bravest man that I have ever known, Nico di Angelo.” He watched as a shiver ran up the resistance leader’s spine. There was a moment’s hesitation, before Jason slid himself out of his aviator’s jacket. With gentle fingers he wrapped it around Nico’s shoulders. He said nothing when Nico leaned back to rest against him. He just gripped at the sleeve of the jacket and let his eyes drift close.

.........................................................  
They left the moment it was dark enough. Nico let out another shrill whistle and Cerberus came bounding up, tongue lolling out. Jason had to let out a soft exhale: the dog was nearly the size of one of their small horses. He had no idea how they were going to fit the animal in their house, much less keep him hidden from the last few remaining soldiers. Reyna was the one who drew the proverbial line in the sand

“We can’t bring him back, Nico.” The young man turned to stare at her, brown eyes glinting with an emotion that was close to anger. 

“I’m not going to leave him.” 

“Nico, he’s huge… and maybe rabid.” Jason said, eying the creature with wariness. Nico scowled at him. 

“He’s completely tame.” As if to justify his point, Hades’ eldest began to scratch at Cerberus’s ear, which the dog took as a go ahead to lick enthusiastically at the human’s face and hands. “See?” 

“Or he just likes the taste of human flesh.” Jason supplied. 

"He saved my life, Jason Grace." Nico growled, causing Cerberus to snarl at his new master's distress.

“I think he’s cute.” Hazel said, walking over to the guard dog. 

“And tell me how you are going to explain just how we got him to the soldiers.” Jason said, crossing his arms in front of him. Both of the children of Hades leveled him with glares. He winced, but refused to back down. 

“We found him in the barn this morning. It’s perfectly logical. Besides, there are barely any Germans left.” Hazel said. Jason felt his will to fight against the siblings crumbling. 

“I’m going to regret this.” He muttered. Reyna patted him on the shoulder. 

“I just hope that he likes other dogs. If he hurts either of mine, I will kill him.” 

“Might be hard.” 

“I am not above having you use your plane.” With a decisive nod, Reyna moved down the path. “Are you three coming?” 

.........................................................  
It was nearly morning by the time that they all had snuck back into the cottage. Probably around three, judging by the placement of the moon. Within ten minutes, the four teenagers had collapsed into the blankets and bedsheets that littered the floor of the master bedroom. Just as Jason was closing his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the agitated pangs of weary muscles, someone knelt down beside him. The remembered and missed smell of upturned dirt mixed with lavender and metal embraced his senses. 

"Nico?" He whispered, trying not to startle the other. 

"Grace," There was a hesitance in Nico's tone and it made Jason start to rise up into a sitting position. A hand pressed on his chest stopped him. He watched as dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight. He took in the way that the other's muscles were tensed, and how undamaged fingers fiddled with the frayed ends of his jacket's sleeve. He blinked and bit his lip. He remembered the words that Hazel had screamed at them when he stopped her from continuing to search. He raised the covers, hoping that he was reading the situation right. For a moment, neither of them moved, they didn't dare to breathe. 

Jason looked on as Nico swallowed thickly. The Italian had to visibly will himself to relax. Jason lowered the quilt. "Nico, if you don't want--" Dark eyes flashed and Nico laid himself down, trying to be mindful of his wounds but still grimacing. There was a scarce five inches in between them. Nico curled up on his side, facing the American Airman. His bandaged hand brushed against Jason's collarbone. With a small nod, he closed his eyes and inched ever so slightly closer. Jason could only smile and follow his example.


	7. This Is How It Feels to Take a Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm not dead. Yeah, that's a start. Sorry for the long wait, everyone, and thank you to every single one of you who kept asking me to continue. Life has been hard these past couple of months, but I think (hopefully) that things will start slowing down again. 
> 
> So, on another note, here's the chapter! (I apologize for the *ahem* mature scene in advance. Me and sex don't really mix so, if it's too awkward for you, please just skip it.)

Jason woke up at five, like he had been doing every morning since the attack where Nico went missing. With a groan, he sat up rubbing at his eyes. This morning, however, was different from those before it. For one thing, there was a bandaged hand tugging loosely at the blanket that he had wrapped around his legs. There were large brown eyes staring up at him, squinting, as if trying to determine what was happening and who was attacking. It would have been cute except for the fact that Nico was clutching at a knife with his left hand. Jason wasn’t even sure where he had gotten the weapon. He was beginning to think that Nico had them stashed all around the cottage.

“W…What’s going on? Jason?” The black-haired boy murmured. Jason sighed and leaned down to nuzzle at the back of the slighter man’s head. Nico was either too tired or not awake enough to care about propriety. He leaned into Jason’s touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Jason swallowed at the display of trust and pulled away. 

“Nothing. Everything is fine. I’m getting up.” 

“So early?” Nico started to move around, readying to rise as well. His movements caused his shirt to rise ever so slightly, showing off the discolored bandage that was wrapped tightly around his chest and waist. 

Jason resisted the urge to flinch. “You can sleep in.” He whispered, already knowing that it was a futile battle. Once Nico was awake, he was awake. 

“No, no, ‘m fine.” Nico’s grip on Jason’s shirt tightened to keep the other man still so that Nico could use him as a support beam. Jason looked down to notice that his hand had found its way to Nico’s wrist and that his thumb was skating across the paler teen’s knuckles. He took note of their close proximity but couldn’t bring himself to care. It was almost as if the constant contact was the only way to soothe the nagging feeling in his mind that Nico was about to disappear again the moment he left him alone. 

After about thirty minutes of peaceful silence, Jason began to grow jittery. Nico, growing tired of the constant movement, pushed Jason out of the nest only to trail after him into the kitchen. 

It was quiet as Jason went about making breakfast. Nico’s eyes followed him wherever he went, dulled but protective. It made him start to wonder. 

“Nico?” 

“Hm?” The resistance leader blinked sleepily as he reached for the coffee that the pilot had made. Jason took a minute to look back at the room where Hazel and Reyna were still sleeping soundly. He took a deep breath and bit the proverbial bullet. 

“Hazel—when we thought that… when you could have… when you were gone—she told me something and I was wondering if it was true or not.” Nico stopped reaching for the mug and stared at the blond man. His muscles were tense underneath his shirt, but it was clear that he was making a conscious effort to remain carefully neutral in the face. Jason took note of the other man’s discomfort and took just half-a-step closer. 

“What is it?” Nico whispered, either keeping his voice down so as to not wake the girls, or so he could prolong having to answer the question for as long as possible.   
Jason handed the other man his coffee and shifted from foot to foot. “Well… let’s just say that—wait. No… oh god—why does this have to be so hard?” The blonde groaned into his hand, trying to remain as calm as possible as he forced himself to utter the words. Nico was watching with something akin to panic growing on his features. 

“Jas—”

“How do you feel about me?” Jason looked up at the end of his sentence to see that Nico had gone as pale as a ghost. His body was humming with fearful energy and it was clear that he was readying to run. His wild eyes flickered to the doorway, then back to the other man. Jason grabbed his wrist before he managed to take off. He watched as Nico struggled against his grip, trying to find words that would calm the boy. 

“L-Let me—”

“Me too.” 

“—Go! Let me—what?” In that moment, every muscle in Nico’s body seemed to relax then tense as he looked up at the blonde resistance member. 

“Nico--” At the sound of his name, Nico let out a wounded sound. He pulled away, and this time Jason let him. He forced his fingers not to clinch around the other’s to keep him from running. He only watched on, uncomprehending, as Nico pressed his hands to his mouth, shaky and scared. “Nico?” He cut himself off when he saw the panic growing on Nico’s features. “What’s the mat—”

“No!” Nico’s voice was a strained whisper. A hiss in the dark. “Don’t even think about saying those words, Jason! You know what the matter is! You have to! I-If we do anything that hints to any of this, no one will take us seriously. The other resistance leaders are already doubting my leadership because of my age, I can only imagine what would happen if they…” He trailed off, looking pale, sickly, “Not only that but we’ll also have to deal with the goddamn soldiers prowling around our streets! Do you know what they’ve done to people w-who do this, Jason?! They ship them away like cattle with the Jews and the Roma, and-and everyone else that they find to be vile. And that’s if they don’t kill them first a-and—” He cut himself off when Jason took a step closer and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I won’t let them.” Jason whispered, his voice certain and sure as his breath ghosted over the fine hairs of Nico’s cupid’s bow. The Italian boy shivered. 

“You can’t promise that.” He muttered, his tone weak, even to his own ears as he forced his eyes to remain trained on the tip of Jason’s nose. He could only let out a shaky breath when he felt the other man bend down.

Jason’s lips were soft and gentle, coaxing in their kindness. For once, Nico didn’t want to have to fight his mind over this. He wanted to just let himself be lost in the feeling and be able to enjoy the silken slide of lips as they pressed together. But he couldn’t just let himself go. He had been trained too much to just let all of his senses be washed over with the overwhelming euphoria of finally having someone’s full attention. Of finally being able to think that Jason just might, just might, feel the same way as him. Even if the idea was completely ludicrous. Even if it was impossible. God, he wanted to. And that was more than slightly terrifying.

With a jerking motion, he pushed himself back, only to find that during the time that had elapsed, they had molded closely together. He found himself staring up into misted over blue eyes as Jason frowned softly. “Nico?” He whispered, his voice hoarse from both pleasure and nerves. He whispered the name, as if it belonged to someone else, someone who was actually worth his devotion. Nico felt a shudder coarse through his frame and he wrapped his arms around himself. Jason shuffled back, as if just realizing that what he had just done might have been wrong in some way. Nico trailed after him, unwilling to lose the warmth that the other man had provided. With shaking hands, the Italian reached to latch onto the other’s sleeping shirt, his fingers fisting into the striped material. He was the one who brought their bodies closer together, and all he could do was sigh when Jason bundled him into his arms. He reached up to twine his hand in Jason’s hair as he pulled him down so that he could reconnect their lips. 

He was so tired of trying to be right. He was so tired of hurting. His body still pulsed and ached with every move that he took and his right hand was still numb with pain and he was still so, so tired. Just once, he wanted to be able to do what he wanted, and not have it have some sort of sick joke that the universe taunted in front of him to give him just enough hope to keep struggling onward.

When they broke apart, all Nico could try to do was fight desperately to keep from connecting their gaze. He didn’t want to know what Jason was thinking. He didn’t want for the moment to progress. To be lost. But he had to. “Why me? Why do this to me?” He managed to choke out, unwilling to look up or to let the other go. “I-I can’t offer you anything.”   
“I don’t want anything else.” Jason whispered, brushing his lips against the side of the Italian’s neck. 

“You should. You deserve—”

“Don’t sell yourself so short. Let me decide that, okay?” The blond moved so that his knuckles stroked gently down accented cheekbones. Nico stuttered out a breath, his eyes fluttering to half-mast. 

“Jason—” There was a moment of hesitation, a breath of respite, one glimpse of a potential infinity where dark eyes softened and lightened to hazel. Where fingers trailed soft touches against once pale skin. Where there were no reservations, nor fears. And then there was a sound of life from the other room.

Immediately, the peace was broken. Nico ripped himself away from the American, and his face was a barely readable mask of impassiveness. The only thing that showed even a slight hint toward his inner emotions was the brightness in his eyes as they tracked Hazel’s sluggish movements around the dining area. 

Reyna was only slightly more awake than Hazel, but, as always, she was able to sense that something deeper was lurking just below the calm quiet of the room. She turned to glance at Jason, who met her gaze with attempted poise. If the raised eyebrow was anything to go by, she didn’t believe it for more than a minute. 

Slowly, they settled into breakfast. The only slightest hint that anything had transpired was the soft blush that crept its way up Nico’s neck, and the way that his hand lingered on Jason’s arm just a second too long when he was reaching for the bread.   
....................................................................

Reyna let it go for a couple days. Three, to be exact. Three days of accidental hand-brushings leading to embarrassed sputters. Three days of the men shuffling closer and farther away from each other, as if unaware of how they unconsciously gravitated toward one another. Three whole days of shyly drawn out eye contact whenever Jason and Nico were in the same room. By the end of the ever so long third day, even Hazel had noticed that something was up. 

Hazel was making dinner when Reyna stole up behind her and made herself at home, leaning against the cupboards. “Alright,” The older woman said, flicking her braid over her shoulder. “Which one do you want to talk some sense into?” 

“Shouldn’t we let them sort things out on their own?” Hazel asked, her voice soft as she continued beating the batter that would (hopefully) stop being lumpy soon. 

“They aren’t going to.” 

“You sound far too sure of that.” 

“Jason doesn’t like to push things and Nico has a very nasty habit of running away from his feelings when he doesn’t like them.” 

Hazel let out a soft hum, keeping her eyes trained on the mixing bowl in her hands. “Then I guess I’ll talk to Jason.” 

“And I’ll see if I can talk any sense into Nico.”  
....................................................................

Finding Nico was harder than one would originally think. It was almost as if the boy could hide himself in shadows and make himself invisible if he didn’t want to be found. Thankfully, Reyna had gotten quite apt at discovering all of his favorite haunts and located him within the hour. For the record, she had no earthly idea how he had managed to perch himself on one of the shaded barn rafters with an injured hand. “Nico, I think that we need to talk.” She said, putting her hands on her hips, trying to look stern while staring up at the pair of dangling boots. 

“Oh?” 

“Don’t you play dumb with me, giovane.”

“I don’t—”

“You watch him.” Silence filled the barn and Reyna sighed, hoping that she wasn’t making things worse than they were, “You watch him out of the corner of your eye.” You stare at him as though he is the sky, free to do what he wants. To go where he wants. Unrestrained and untethered. But you are wrong. She took a step forward. You’re so busy watching him, that you don’t notice the way that he’s watching you. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

“Stop hesitating. It’s making life harder for all of us.” 

“The fact that you actually want us to… do anything is more than a little disconcerting.” 

“The fact that you have been mooning over him for about six months is worse. That, combined with the fact that he has been doing the exact same thing is making this whole fiasco ridiculous.” 

“Reyna, I don’t know how to make this clear for you but,” Nico’s legs were pulled up from view and there was quiet for a moment, followed by a muted ‘thump’. The young man came into view and the glint in his eyes was harsh, nearly painful to look at, “Jason’s pretty much stuck here.” 

“So?” Reyna crossed her arms. 

“So, he’s having to settle with what’s available to him.” Reyna tried not to let her anger at those words show through. She was glad that Hazel had picked to talk to Jason.   
“If you are even insinuating that he’s only close to you because—”

“I have nothing for him, Reyna! I’m nobody: a gypsy brat who’s probably not even going to live to see his next birthday! I’m damaged goods and every single person in this village knows it! Why would anyone in their right mind actually want me?” He ended the last sentence with a flourish of his wounded hand. Reyna had enough. 

“Shut up.” She said, anger lacing her words with an icy sharpness. When Nico dared to take a step closer to her, all fire and brimstone, she held up a hand. “Shut up and don’t say a word until I finish speaking.” She rocked back on her heels, and stared down at her nose at her friend. “You’re brilliant and are the sole reason why that we haven’t been over-run by Nazis. And you can shoot like the devil. So what if you don’t have money? No one around here does. So what if you’re wounded and fucked up? We all are. The only thing that matters is the fact that Jason has, at least in my opinion, made it quite clear that he values you and thinks you’re… appealing. And I’m fairly certain that the feeling is mutual.” She glared at the younger Italian, who flushed and looked away. Her gaze softened minutely. “He hasn’t left yet, and I’m of the opinion that he won’t, even once this damned war is over and through with. He’s happy here.” He’s happy with you. Reyna sucked at her teeth, “Now, I’m only going to repeat myself once. Stop. Hesitating.” With that, she turned on her heels and marched out of the building.   
....................................................................

Nico watched her as she disappeared back into the house, silent and pondering. He was startled out of his stupor by Blackjack hitting at the door of his stable, huffing in agitation at his empty food-trough. Nico willed himself to relax as he walked over to the horse, reaching up to toy with his black mane. “She doesn’t know what she’s asking me to be.” He whispered, feeling Blackjack shift under his fingers, on-edge and agitated at the young man’s touch. Nico smiled, knowing that he didn’t have the natural affinity for animals that Hazel, Jason, or even Reyna seemed to possess. He grabbed a bucket, filled it with feed and mixed in water. With little ceremony, he dumped the mixture into the wooden trough. Blackjack let out a huff and Nico looked into the fenced field, still able to see the faint impressions of the other horses out in the fields.

“If I did what she’d ask, I’d be the main thing keeping him here.” Nico sighed, pulling away to sit down on the stone floor. Blackjack stared at him over his food, munching away at the oat mixture. “He’s stuck here, now, and if I do what I want, he’d stay here, even if we outlive this whole mess. I know him that well. I wouldn’t want for him to leave and he’d understand that, just like he seems to understand everything else.” Nico swallowed, tapping the heel of his leather boots against the ground. “He even has a family back in the states. He loves his sister. Keeping him here would be selfish. Cruel even. Not that he couldn’t go back to visit them but transatlantic travel is easily three weeks long by ship and I think that even Jason isn’t stupid enough to travel by commercial airship. After the Hindenburg, I’m pretty sure that no one’s that foolish. Not to mention the money that would be involved with a trip like that.” Nico felt his lips quirk upward in spite of himself, “I’m pretty sure that’d we have to sell the whole farm just to go one way.” 

Blackjack huffed again, his wheat-sweetened breath rustling his owner’s curls. Nico bit his lip, shaking at his head, “I want him to stay. I want him. But do I even deserve to let myself be that selfish?” The sounds of boots crunching against the gravel outside drew Nico’s head up as Jason looked in, his blue eyes tracing over both Nico and the stallion in confusion. 

“Did he knock you down?” There was a worried tint to Jason’s words and once again, Nico wondered just how someone like Jason could even bare to stand beside him. Much less…

He shook his head, “I was just letting him out and got sidetracked.” He tried not to let himself blush when he noticed Jason’s smile soften. He couldn’t stop himself from flushing when he watched Jason open his mouth and draw his bottom lip across his teeth, clearly pondering how to say something. 

“Is it dinner time already?” He asked, getting up and brushing himself off. Jason immediately shut his mouth, both looking relieved and resigned. 

He nodded. “Yeah, in five.” Again he smiled, “After you?” He asked, gesturing to the doorway. 

Nico shook his head, “Need to bring the others in.” Again, Jason took the statement in stride. The blonde airman sighed, and looked at Nico with a gentle sort of fondness that nearly had Nico reaching something to hold onto. Preferably anything on Jason’s person.

He cleared his throat, “Give me ten minutes. Start dinner without me.”

“Yeah, right, like Hazel would let any of us do that.” Jason laughed, and as Nico brushed past him, he let out a soft murmur that made the Italian look up. Wind-chapped lips pressed again his temple and Nico felt his heart shudder in his chest. 

He looked up to stare up into glimmering blue eyes. With a wave, Jason turned away and headed back up the path to the cottage. Nico remained rooted in his spot. 

Do I even deserve to let myself be selfish? “God, I want to think so.”   
....................................................................

“Hey now, Tempest, hey—” Jason chided, reaching up to rest a hand against the stallion’s nose, before moving it down to pet at the horse’s side and flank. The sun was going down and Jason’s bones honestly ached. All the sleepless nights were finally catching up to him.

“Grace,” Reyna called, making her way towards him. She was outlined in the light of the receding sun. There was a spring to her step as she halted by his side. Scorpio rushed to his mistress’s side. Jason stopped to look over at her as she reached up to run a hand through Scorpio’s mane. A smile was tugging at her lips as she leaned closer. “Midas just got in contact with us. The Allies have made it through the embankment.” 

Jason felt his eyes widened. The relief that flooded through him at those simple words was phenomenal. His hands fell down to his sides. “So that means—”

“That they are coming this way.” 

“We’re winning?” 

“Perhaps,” Reyna said, pursing her lips to keep her smile in check. Jason tilted his head back and let out a peal of laughter. Without thinking, without checking himself, he grabbed the woman, and spun her. The minute that her feet brushed the ground, Jason stopped short, “Where’s Hazel? Does Nico know?” 

“Nico’s calling a meeting in the tavern, as for Hazel, I already mentioned it to her when I came to find you.” 

“Tavern? He’s at the tavern?” 

“Yes, yes, go, go! I’ll lock them up!”

With a shake of her head, Reyna could only roll her eyes as the blonde Airman took off down the fields, toward the town center. 

....................................................................  
While the tavern wasn’t exactly bursting at the seams, there were way more people than normal. Villagers- familiar faces from both in and outside of the town limit, milled around and settled in chairs and benches. Jason looked around, confused. There was a ‘thump’ as Pollux set a drink down before him, a grin etched upon his normally sullen features. 

“On the house!” The tavern owner nearly chirped, his curly black bangs nearly falling into his eyes. There was a redness to his cheeks, but he seemed happier than he had in months. 

“Where’s—”

“Hazel’s helping Selena. As for her brother, I thought that he went looking for you. Said something about the shed out back.” Jason nodded, remembering that he had told Nico that he was going there earlier in the day. 

“I’ll go—”

“Jason! Jason!” Hazel came running forward, “Did you hear? Did Reyna tell you?” 

“Three months and they say that the Nazis will be out!” Yew cheered, already blushing drunkenly. “About damn-hic-time I say!” His words were slurring together, giving hints to a Midwestern twang. He raised his glass to Jason who, in turn, lifted his own. 

There was a chuckle off to Jason’s left, causing the blonde man to nearly spill his drink. Nico had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, his dark eyes nearly glowing. “Already celebrating, I see?” 

“You want some?” Yew asked, readying to signal Pollux to pour another beer. He threw an arm over Solace’s shoulder. Nico waved his hand, his eyes scanning the room. 

“Where’s Reyna?” He asked Jason, slightly tensed. It was obvious that the dining hall was getting too crowded for his tastes. Jason, almost unconsciously, moved away to give the Italian a bit more room. He tried not to let his surprise show when the man trailed after him. 

“At the cottage. Getting the horses back in their stables.” 

“You didn’t help her?” There was no blame or disapproval in Nico’s voice, only curiosity.

“She said she didn’t need it.” 

“…Good.” The word was not spoken so much as breathed. “Once, she comes, can you meet me outside?” 

“Is everything alright?” Jason asked, looking closely at the resistance leader’s features. There was a brush of red running across the bridge of Nico’s nose. The dim light casted a gleam in his eyes, highlighting the flecks of green that were normally invisible.

“Fine. Everything is fine. It’s just—“

“I got it. See you around in a little while, yeah?”

Relief was evident in Nico’s actions when he nodded softly. There was a moment of hesitation, before he brushed their hands together ever so lightly, and walked out.   
After that, Jason could barely think. He lost himself in the swirls of color and unaccustomed smiles of strangers who were a bit too drunk, but couldn’t bring themselves to care because for once they had a reason to celebrate. He watched as Hazel danced in and out of the crowd, making her way to him every few minutes, her golden eyes alight in the same way that Nico’s eyes had glowed before he had left. A gleam of happiness that had been long missed. 

By the time that Reyna had found her way over to the table, a dance had started up. The creaky old piano squeaking out an off-tune melody, an up tune beat with the hint of a habanera rhythm. Jason nodded at her, before making his way out of the tavern. The air was cool and soft, the freedom of the night sky pulling Jason away from the commotion of the party.   
....................................................................

There was no sign of Nico anywhere near the tavern, and it was only when Jason started making his way back to house, that he noticed the faint lights in the windows of the cottage. Sighing and shrugging against the chill air, he made his way up the path to the front door. 

“Nico?” He called, looking around the kitchen. The blankets and pillows that had been scattered around the floor for the past two weeks since Nico’s return were gone. Jason tried not to let the cool fear that rushed through his gut to reach his head. “Nico?” He called again, his voice only slight more urgent than it was before. 

There was the sounds of life from Nico’s old room, before the Italian poked his head out of the entranceway. “Here, Jason.” He said, his voice softer than normal. He walked out into the kitchen, playing at his collar with his unwrapped hand. Jason smiled. “What are you doing?” 

There was a moment of silence, of hesitation. Then Nico shrugged, almost hunched forward in an almost nervous manner. “I thought I should move back into my old room.” 

“Oh,” Jason whispered. “Alright.” He whispered, trying to mask his disappointment. He should have expected that Nico would want a bit more space as he healed and felt the need to become more independent again. “So, Hazel and Reyna will sleep in Hazel’s room?” 

Nico frowned, a touch of confusion shading over his embarrassment. “Reyna will sleep on the spare if she stays.” 

Jason crossed the room, his weight making the floorboards groan softly, “Then where will I sleep?” 

The blush that had painted itself across Nico’s cheeks only got darker as he looked pointedly down at his feet, only just managing to shift his gaze back to the bedroom once. It was enough to make Jason understand. He felt his face begin to heat, and he reached out to brush back a dark curl from out of Nico’s eyes. “Are you sure?” He whispered, his voice hoarse. Nico nodded again. “I-I don’t want for you to be—”

“I want you to.” Nico’s voice was so incredibly soft, so nervous. It took Jason a minute to realize that the Resistance leader had spoken those words in English. The words and the emotions made a mixture of relief and comfort and glee cloud Jason’s thoughts. “I-I--we sleep—” Nico shook his head, switching back into Italian, “Hazel and Reyna already know, and no one ever comes to visit, so that doesn’t matter, and the soldiers are probably not going to come back, and I know that you haven’t been sleeping well on the floor because you’ve started limping, and I know that your neck has knotted up and hell, please make me shut up before I ramble my way into an absolute—hah…” 

Jason had to keep from chuckling as Nico huffed into the kiss, both thankful and annoyed at being cut off. The blonde ran a hand through dark waves, before moving his fingers to trail down sharp features. There was a moment of charged silence, before he lapped at the crest of Nico’s bottom lip, igniting a short gasp of surprise from the slighter man. Tanned fingers clinched around the collar of Jason’s work shirt as Nico drew them even closer together until Jason could feel the way that the muscles in Nico’s body flexed and straightened with every small jolt of movement. One of his hands trailed down to wrap around Nico’s waist, gentle enough so that Nico could pull away, but heavy enough to be a definite presence. Nico reached up to cross his good arm around Jason’s neck in an attempt to bring the American soldier closer to his level. Unfortunately, that left his injured hand in the way. 

“Mmph!” Nico hissed, jerking away before clutching at the burned tissue. Jason immediately leaned toward him, careful to give him space. He reached down to help the smaller man. Nico glowered at the offending appendage with an expression similar to hatred. “Damn it.” He breathed, digging his right thumb into his left wrist. Jason sat down at his feet, looking up with worried blue eyes. 

“It’s been hurting you all this time, hasn’t it?” He asked, crouching forward and holding his hand in a request to examine the wound more closely. Nico hadn’t really let anyone but himself took at the injuries that he had sustained during his disappearance. Jason and Reyna knew better than to argue about it with the male. Hazel was a different story, but it was clear that Nico was desperately trying not to make her worry. 

“It’s not that bad.” Nico muttered, his voice think with underlying pain. He kept his damaged hand close to his body. Jason waited. “May I?” He finally let himself whisper, his voice struggling to remain normally pitched. Nico blinked and stared at him for a good ten seconds. 

“What?” 

“See it? May I see it?” 

“It’s not exactly the prettiest thing to look at, Jason.” 

“You haven’t let anyone else touch it. We’re getting worried. I’m getting concerned.” Jason watched as Nico bit at his reddened lip before waveringly, hesitantly drawing out his hand so that it was between them. “The skin is mostly healed. Really, it’s fine.” Jason rubbed a solitary finger up the tendon of Nico’s covered wrist, before reaching to undo the bandage. The noirette flinched ever so slightly away, his face masked from pain, but his eyes glimmering. “D-Don’t—” He muttered, reaching out with his other hand to still Jason’s fingers. Jason halted once again, then sighed. Without thought, without repulsion, the American Airman bent down and pressed his lips to the heel of Nico’s palm. The wrappings were rough against his lips, but they were thin. He felt Nico still beneath him, his pulse stuttering wildly. 

“J-Jason—” Nico muttered, his fingers stopping their downward path to reach up and curl around Jason’s shoulder as he stepped forward, coercing Jason to take a step back into the recently reopened room. As Jason was moving, Nico took the opportunity to reconnect their lips, the silken slides of wet touches started gentle but grew more heated with each minute that ticked by. There was a soft noise of confusion from Jason as they stumbled closer to the bed. 

Jason smiled, untwining their limbs so that he could press his lips against the smaller man’s neck, nibbling and sucking softly down near the juncture of the Italian’s collarbone. Nico let out a shuddering breath, reaching to grip at the back of Jason’s shirt. “Jase-Jason—” He whispered those words in between sharp inhales, his words breathy and quiet. Jason jumped as the cool tips of Nico’s fingers trailed up his back, mapping out the contours of his shoulders, tracing the lines of flexed muscles. He stopped, moving to pull away. Nico’s dark eyes opened to slits, trailing after the older man. His fingers immediately disappeared. 

“Jason?” He whispered, his voice rough. 

“Are you sure?” Jason asked, his fingers moving to cradle the Italian’s face, his thumb reaching to trail along the jut of Nico’s cheekbone. 

“Huh?” Nico hummed, leaning into the touch with a casual ease. 

“Are you certain about this?”

“Would I do this if I wasn’t?” 

“Sorry,” Jason laughed, rubbing at the back of his head, “It’s just that you seemed really wary of this,” He tapped at both of their chests with his index finger, “before.” 

Nico huffed, drawing back just a centimeter more. “Like I just said, no one outside of this house will have any sort of idea, they’re all absolutely sure that you are heads-over-heels in love with either Hazel or Reyna, anyway. “ He let out a huff. “Not that I totally understand why and—”

“Nico?” 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t start talking about yourself like that.” 

“Well, Jason—” Once again, Jason cut him off with a kiss. This time, he wasted no time in grazing Nico’s bottom lip with his tongue, smirking slightly at the Italian’s hitched breath. With surprisingly steady hands, he reached down firmly grasp the other man’s waist, even going so far as to begin rubbing circles into the jut of Nico’s cloth-covered hipbones with his thumbs. Nico shuddered, thrilling at the touch. He leaned in to bury his face in Jason’s chest, inhaling deeply. The twang of the crisp mountain breeze grounded him, let him take a deep breath and close his eyes. He could do this. They could do this. 

They were silent for a moment, at peace in their embrace. They soaked in each other’s warmth and company. “When do you think the girls will come home?” Jason whispered, his lips fluttering against the shell of Nico’s right ear. His blue eyes were glancing repeatedly back at the door. 

“Not for a while yet.” 

“They might come looking for us

“I might have told Hazel to stay out for an hour or two.” 

“Just what are you planning on having us do?” 

Nico pulled away, moving to sit on the recently made bed. He leaned back with practiced care, catching Jason’s eye with an arched eyebrow as the blonde observed him, “Oh, I don’t know, personally, I was thinking of grabbing some guns and heading out with Cerberus to valiantly push back the remaining Nazis over the Alps so that the Swiss will have to deal with them.”

“Because blood and guts are so very romantic.” 

“And we would be heralded as heroes the minute that we returned.”

“Ah yes, the perfect plan.” Jason took a step toward the other man, leaning down as he went to reconnect their lips in a gentle yet deep kiss that had Nico falling backward on to the mattress, dragging Jason down with him. The blond pulled away, only to trail butterfly kisses down the other’s pale neck. His hands crept up to rub at the skin underneath Nico’s t-shirt. He both felt and heard Nico’s breath stutter to a stop, and moved to pull away, only to find Nico’s right forefinger looped firmly into his pants loops. 

“Where do you think you are going, il mio cielo?” He murmured, rocking his hips forward, smirking triumphantly when Jason groaned, curling inward to press back. The American blushed, hunching over the Italian to nuzzle at dark curls. “Not fair.” He grumbled, to which Nico let out a soft, huffing laugh. After nipping at Nico’s ear in retaliation, Jason pulled himself up, trying not to smile when Nico followed him up. He took note of the glint of worried confusion in Nico’s eyes and grinned, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. The concern immediately darkened with heat as Jason pulled his shirt over his head, baring his toned chest to the cool air. He shivered as his skin pebbled at the coldness, and moved closer to Nico, who let out a soft hum that was half disbelieving and half desperate. 

Jason chuckled, pressing the length of his body against Nico’s lithe form, careful not to pin the other down with his full weight. His fingers trailed up, trailing against the bumps of Nico’s ribs, causing for him to let out a small laugh, husky and happy. So happy. Jason was so enthralled with the noirette’s smile that he didn’t feel the other’s hand reach down between them until hesitant but deft fingers stroked at him hesitantly through his pants. It was all that he could do to try not to choke.

“God, Nico—”He breathed, exhaling sharply as Nico’s eyes glinted. Thin lips quirked up into a smirk as Nico pulled off his shirt, uncaring of the top buttons that popped off at the movement. He licked at his lips, reaching for the blonde as if looking for reassurance. Jason met him halfway, grinning into the kiss as he tried to move as close as possible to the other. He could see every scar, every faint frown line. He wanted to touch each one. To recognize each of them as a facet of the being before him and love them each in turn. For that, at least, was what Nico deserved. But Nico didn’t wish to wait any longer. 

He wasn’t sure when Nico had shifted to rest against his thigh, grinding down rhythmically. His mouth was open and he breathed out a gasp with each shift. Jason smiled, nuzzling at black curls. “Well, someone’s eager.” He muttered against the Italian’s earlobe, savoring the flush of dark scarlet that spread across Nico’s already pink cheeks.   
“Six months. I’ve wanted this for six months.” 

“I know.” Jason whispered, shuffling back ever so slightly to unbutton and shed himself of his pants, “Me too.” Nico blinked, his blush darkening as his eyes flickered downward. Jason watched him swallow. 

“Then don’t tease me.” Nico forced the words out, reaching down to mimic Jason’s actions. He immediately came back to rest in the crevice of Jason’s lap, his bare skin soft and warm against Jason’s frame. His injured hand came to rest on Jason’s hip. His other moved to grasp Jason around the hilt, smirking as Jason shuddered out a breath. He stroked upward, only getting more eager when Jason followed his example and wrapped his fingers around Nico’s member.

“So beautiful.” Jason muttered, kissing at the crown of Nico’s hair, breathing in the scent of the earth as Nico gasped in time with the movement of their joined fingers. Nico keened, rested his head on the valley of Jason’s collarbone as the stroke’s sped up, spurred by their mutual desperation. 

“Careful,” Jason whispered, his blue eyes drawn to the wounded limb as it reached up to pull him ever closer.

“Mine,” Nico whispered, the word choked and laced with a desperate possessiveness that had Jason’s stomach flipping and coiling tight. Nico’s fingers gripped at the base of Jason’s head, guiding the blonde down so that Nico could connect their lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Yours.” He whispered, feeling oddly prideful at the whimper that forced its way past Nico’s lips. “’M yours and you’re mine.” His smile only widened as Nico frantically inhaled and gave a full-body shudder, crying out softly as the world faded into the white pleasure that coursed through his veins. Jason followed, just a heartbeat behind him. 

....................................................................  
The world was quiet and warm as Jason settled back down beneath the covers, tangling his legs with Nico’s. With a content sigh, he wrapped his arms back around Nico, who had been silent and still since Jason handed him a towel to clean himself off with. Jason was almost certain that he was asleep. Gently, he pressed his lips against the younger man’s brow, pulling back only when Nico stirred beneath him. 

“Mmph, why would someone like you ever settle for something like me?” The whisper was spoken in a rush, muttered underneath an exhale as though the words had been simmering underneath the surface for the whole time. Jason stiffened, curling around the other man, both protective and annoyed. Practice and controlled ease was quickly fading as old insecurities took their place. He felt the pitter-patter of Nico’s heart against his chest, still slightly elevated. Nervous. 

“I love you.” He whispered, pressing his lips against the nape of Nico’s neck, regardless of the cooling sweat and overwhelming scent of earth. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s stomach and was pleased when the Italian pushed himself back against him. “And I don’t think that I am settling for anything. You’re amazing.” 

Nico shifted, as though physically trying to reject the words. “I-I—” He went quiet, on edge and uncertain. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

“That’s a lie.” Nico’s head turned so that Jason found himself gazing at dark eyes. 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Jason.” 

“Nico.” Blue eyes stared into hazel. Nico was the one who looked away, moving back to face away from his lover. 

“I don’t want to argue about this.” There was a steely hint in his voice that alluded to the fact that he wouldn’t back down from the argument. Jason sighed, knowing that continuing to push his case would only lead to being pushed out of bed. He tightened his hold on the other’s torso and closed his eyes. 

....................................................................  
They were woken up by a hesitant knock at the door at eight. Nico startled and Jason only just managed to grab the knife that had been stowed underneath the pillow before him. Brown-green eyes flashed when Nico’s fingers grabbed at air, both angered and fearful. Jason ran a hand down his arm and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You’re safe.” He whispered, but it was a good five seconds before those dark eyes cleared. Hazel’s muffled voice came through the door. 

“Jason, we need your help.” 

The American placed the knife down on the nightstand and rubbed at his eyes. “Everything okay?” 

“There are American soldiers in a truck and I’m kind of scared that Reyna’s going to stick Cerberus and the hounds on them.” That had Jason stumbling out of bed, reaching for clothes as Nico sat up, his irises darkening as they watched Jason scramble around the room. 

“You’re going?” 

“Can’t have Reyna kill people.” Nico made a noncommittal noise and Jason stopped in his mad dash to just stare at him for a second. The morning light had draped itself across the other man, shining against his lightly tanned skin and bringing out the dark-brown highlights in his hair. Jason couldn’t help himself. He walked up to the Resistance leader and pressed a kiss to his parted lips. He felt Nico tense and then relax against him. Pulling away, he grinned and was thrilled to see a faint smile in return. “It’ll only be a minute.” 

“Go save my lieutenant.” With those orders, Jason threw open the door, kissed a sputtering Hazel’s cheek, and bounded out of the cottage. 

The supply-truck that Hazel had spoken of wasn’t that far away. Only a few feet away from it was Reyna, who, judging by the look on her face, was very nearly about ready to knife someone. “For the last time, Americano, I don’t know how you managed to get as lost as you did, Milan is a day back that way.” She pointed down the path. 

The soldiers didn’t have time to retort when Jason jogged up, “Reyna, what is the—?”

“Tell them to leave.” She said, nearly growling the Italian out between clinched teeth. Jason raised an eyebrow and turned to stare at the group on the rover, his hand coming up to scratch on his neck. He looked at the two men sitting up front. Both of them had higher ranks than he had and both of them looked just as angry as Reyna. He cleared his throat and set about trying to defuse the situation. “Alright. Hello, sirs, my name is Ja—”

“Jason?!” Jason startled back at the voice, his eyes immediately falling upon the canopied bed of the vehicle. Without so much as a second thought, he went racing to the back of the Jeep. The minute that he rounded the corner, the barrier door flew open and a dirt covered, curly headed body came stumbling out. Brown eyes met blue and Jason felt his mouth drop open. He watched as dark lips gave way to a very wide smile that Jason had known for years. 

“Leo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to the wonderful DK, who's messages actually made me want to pick this story up again. 
> 
> Please tell me what you think, 
> 
> Marine :)


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